Think Hard

Overheard at my house...

Mom: That is the Star of David. Hitler made all the Jews wear the Star of David to identify them.

Anson: Did they get killed?

M: Not at first, but eventually they were rounded up and sent to concentration camps where millions upon millions of them were killed.

A: Was that because they weren't concentrating?

For the record, I did correct him, but only after a hearty laugh.

Truth and Looks

"Are you cute?" the 20-something man on the other end of the phone asked me. I felt startled. I had cold-called him from an insurance agency to set appointments for an agent. The young man had recently bought a new truck and was open to the idea of switching insurance companies.

I was an 18-year-old freshman at BYU, just trying to earn some extra cash without having to work much. I think it was my second day on the job.

"No," I answered without much thought. I was at least 40 lbs overweight and a poor dresser. Although I hoped that someone would find me cute, I was far from fitting the traditional definition.

"Ah," the voice on the other end of the phone purred, "that means you're really cute."

"No!" I said getting more insistent, "No!"

"I'm coming down there," the guy announced.

"Where?" I asked.

"To the insurance place. Maybe, then I can convince you to go out with me."

I felt panicked. I had given this man, through the course of conversation, important details about where I was including the address of the insurance office.

I hung up the phone and turned to the other girls. I explained that there was a man coming to see me. They had to tell him that "Jenna" had gone home and I would make the rest of my calls using the name "Kathy." Although these girls are not normally ones who would have been my friends, they agreed.

It felt like moments later the guy showed up. He asked for me, but the girls kept their promise and told him I had left. He flirted unabashedly with the girls there, trying to figure out which one of them had actually called. He never even looked at me, the fat girl in the corner still making phone calls.

One of the sales agents working late in a back office heard kind of a commotion as this guy and his friend requested looking around the office, sure that the beautiful, albeit humble, Jenna was there somewhere. The agent told the young man that the office was closed, followed him down and locked the door.

I quit the next day.

More than anything, I feared this man's reaction. The look of disgust that would have inevitably crossed his face when he learned that I--I was the caller with the cute voice. I doubt he would have asked me out, especially once he saw me, and I doubted even more that he would believe me. If the other girls said, "There. That one's Jenna." I expect that he would have say, Can't be. And he would have kept pressing for the "real answer."

So what's the truth about you? Are you cute?

Me Stuck and Other Words

Beck said, "Me stuck," today while insisting that he was done with dinner and it was now time to get out of his high chair. So, along my similar theme (being a brag) as my last few posts, here are a few things Beck says.

*A cow says: Moo
*A puppy says: Arf
*A cat says: Ahhhhh (very high pitched). It actually sounds exactly like our cat and much more realistic than the traditional "meow."
*A fish says: (smacks his lips)
*A sheep says: Baa
*An elephant says: Goo-ga. (It's supposed to be Ooooo-ga, but often as not he puts on a leading "G.")

Beck also says, "ouch" and "ow" a lot. Unfortunately, he's started in with "mine," too. He also says, "one." I don't really know why, maybe he's counting down 'cause bad things happen at my house on three. I've tried to get him to say "one" after I ask him how old he is, but so far, no dice.

Annika Is 3

Let's pretend that today is March 21st and Annika has just turned three!

I can't believe how quickly the time goes by. Avert your eyes if you hate those posts where people brag on and on about their kids.

Amazing Things About Annika:

1. Annika is 100% potty trained. Day trained, night trained, choo-choo trained. She has, no question, been my easiest child to potty train. The worst, hardest part took 1 month after which I think she has had 2 accidents. I'm not kidding. She's awesome.

2. Annika is my most advanced reader. She sight reads over 20 words, she knows the entire alphabet and all the sounds the letters make. We are now working on phonics and she is reading books. She's currently in the middle of "The Goose is Loose."

3. I LOVE Annika's naturally curly hair. It took me forever to get up the nerve to cut it because I was terrified that I was losing her curls. Nope. They're still all bouncy and wavy.

4. Annika is very articulate. I often have people guessing that she's a small 4 because she speaks so well. The other day she told me, "I need to draw something in this area." And waved her hand over her paper. Lovely. Draw away.

5. Annika is writing too. She can consistently write A, O, N, M and W. She's working on K, I, and D among others.

6. She has a bit of a performer in her. One day at Costco, she heard children's music and immediately began singing and dancing along. Soon (according to Wendell) they had a gathering of grandmother-ish ladies, clapping their hands and adoring her. Wendell bought the music and I have been tortured with it ever since.

7. Annika can get dressed all by herself. Many times a day. Today she appeared at the front door (I was outside talking to a neighbor) in a swimming suit, shorts and a sun hat. Before I could even get inside to take her picture she had changed into filthy clothes, from heaven knows what day. She changes as much as 3-4 times a day wearing any of the following: dress-up outfits, pj's (sometimes with the feet attached), yesterday's clothes, Emma's underwear, clothes from any of the big kids, Halloween costumes, hats, glasses, etc.

This concludes Jenna's brag session.

Now That I've Vented...

So I had a heart to heart with Nathan today. I asked him what he thought of Emma and Anson going to a different school.

"I don't much care," he said.

Perhaps it was my blinking look of shock that encouraged him to continue.

"Lately, they've been bugging me."

So cavalier. Well, then. Good to know.

I want to blog about...

I should be blogging about Annika. March 21st was her 3rd birthday. I think about blogging about her everyday. But today what I want to blog about is Nathan. As eager as I am for Emma and Anson to participate in the ALL program. I am concerned about Nathan. He doesn't do well with change.

Today Anson told me that he and Nathan eat school lunch together almost everyday. And they play at recess together, though, as Anson tells it, it's often at his inconvenience. Anson is a good brother. How will Nathan do when he doesn't have Anson to watch out for him and stick up for him?

Once my nephew, Spencer (who attends school with my kids), found out that Emma and Anson made it into the ALL program, he declared that he won't be walking home with babies. He's going to walk home everyday with his pal, Paul and NOT Nathan. (His own little sister, Charlotte, will be a 1st grader next year and despite that, he is apparently not walking home with her either.)

I try to calm myself. To figure out how I can get kids home at the same time everyday from two different schools. There are options. I could stagger the kids--having two start and end times every day. Although that is easier in some ways, it's harder in others.

I am so excited for the older kids. But then, everyone says, "Have you heard about the homework?" And my eyes widen like saucers to match theirs and I think, Am I up for this?

And I worry about Emma and the math. And I worry about Nathan some more. How do I do two back to school nights, two choir concerts, two Reflection's programs, two...? But then I realize that anyone with a child in elementary and one in junior high has the same problem. It's silly to worry. I'll do the best I can. I'll get help where I can. Wendell will get off work when he can. And we'll be OK.

It's hard to embrace the new without morning the loss of the old. My three big kids will never walk home together from school again. But their minds will be fed in a different way. All of the enrichment activities, I want to do for them, will be done at school. It takes a burden off that way.

Of course we can always quit. At any time. This isn't set in stone. It's just one year. One school year. To see how the program goes. To see what happens.

It's A.L.L. Part of the Program

On Friday our family got great news. Emma and Anson have made it into the Accelerated Learning Lab (ALL) at Cherry Hill. For those of you who have no idea what that means, Emma and Anson have tested into a "Gifted and Talented" program.

My biggest worry when these two went for their test was that one would make in but not the other. Which child I thought would make it in varied based on the day. Now that they're both in, we're thrilled, albeit complete unprepared for this outcome.

On April 22nd, we can attend a parent meeting at the school, which I'm hoping will answer some of our questions. This could be tricky, though, with Nathan at one school and Emma and Anson at another. Hopefully, Nathan will test in next year and they can all be at the same school.

We will be having some family councils about this and how this amazing opportunity will effect all of us.

So I'm dying to hear about others' experiences with gifted programs. Was it good for you, was it worth it for your kid? Please tell.

Alone with My Toe

Once again, I've been guilty of a notable blogging lag. And, oh, the stories I could tell. Like about my toe. My right, big toe to be precise. The other day, while showering, I bumped the shower shelf unit that hangs on the shower door. This small, insignificant bump knocked my razor off it's spot where it careened down and sliced a half inch square (oddly square if you ask me) of flesh off the end of my toe.

I stood in the shower and watched the blood swirl down the drain and pondered on the lie that if you cut yourself while submerged in water that it doesn't hurt. Well, let me tell you. It hurts more when you get out, but it still hurts like heck.

Today, when I got up the nerve to face my razor again and shave my legs, I discovered some odd thick foreign object in my razor. AHHHHHH!!!! It was my flesh. I actually had to pull the flesh out of my razor with a pair of tweezers. (Shudder.)

But that does not tell you why I am alone. I am on vacation. All. By. Myself.

I am sitting in a hotel room, in my PJ's, typing on Wendell's laptop. I have 11 books and 3 journals/notebooks with me. I am meeting a friend from Wyview--when both our hubbies were students at BYU-- for lunch tomorrow. Then I have a massage scheduled at a day spa across the street in the late afternoon. The following day I'm having dinner in downtown Salt Lake City with my roommate from my freshman year at college, who I haven't seen in years.

Some of you will think I am insane. And some of you will envy me terribly. I want you to know I plan on sleeping in a long time. I also plan on enjoying 6 straight meals that I don't have to fix or clean up. The weird thing is, I already miss Wendell and the kids.

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

This book is one of the most brilliant I have ever read. This is David Wroblewski first novel and I pray there are more to come. My heart is pounding and my mind racing at the conclusion of this novel, wishing desperately for more of the book, yet knowing that if there were more, it would somehow spoil the thing.

The characters are complex and unpredictable. You sit captivated by the book simply waiting for what happens next because you'll never guess it. This book has easily made it into the top 5 books I love including: The Five People You Meet in Heaven, To Say Nothing of the Dog, The Secret Life of Bees, and The Giver.

At page 210 (of 566) this book became a riveting one that I struggled to put down. The last 25% of the book did have some swearing, but it didn't detract from the book. Amazing. Beautiful. Perfect.

Dreams

Beck woke with a start in his crib. His cries grew stronger as I tried fruitlessly to ignore him and read my book. When it was obvious that he wouldn't settle himself, I stood, shut off most of the lights in the living room, kitchen and hall and walked into the dark.

His door opened with a pop and I couldn't tell if he cried harder because comfort was so close or if his cries just seemed louder now that I was in the room with him. He was sitting up in bed, a thing I couldn't see as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Instead, I felt his contour lines--like a blind person--making sure he hadn't stuffed his leg in between the crib slats, before I picked him up.

His sobbing quieted as I cradled him. I reached back into the crib for Bob--his blanket--only to realize Beck already had him by a corner. Beck laid his head on my shoulder and I rocked back and forth in the air, longing for a rocking chair upstairs. I thought briefly of crossing the house and going down the stairs where we have 3 rocking chairs, but the light was still on in the entry way and the TV was on downstairs and all that walking would further rouse Beck rather than settle him.

I remember a couple of nights ago calming another night terror by bringing Beck to bed with me for a few minutes. He'd laid next to me, head on my chest, sucking his two middle fingers on his left hand and stroking my face with his right. His chubby fingers had explored my face, periodically sticking them in my mouth or up my nose, but most caressing my cheek and chin.

I crept out of his room where the light from the entry way made him blink even though it was so far away. I quickly entered my room and sat at the edge of the bed and rocked back and forth. I wiped the tears off his cheeks and listened to his breathing relax. He was asleep again in moments, sucking on his fingers and allowing me to play with his soft, chubby right hand.

He huffed as I stood. I was reluctant to put him back in bed--to let go of him at all--but I also knew that the sooner he was in bed the better he would sleep. I could have sat and held him forever. Reason prevailed and I walked sideways past my dresser, not knowing in the dark how close I was. If I were to accidentally bump it, I wanted my back and not Beck's head to come in contact with a hard, sharp surface. I opened my door with one finger, but the movement woke Beck a little and he lifted his head. By the time we crossed the faint light in the hallway and reentered the darkness of his room, I'd coaxed Beck's head onto my shoulder.

Carefully, I laid him in the crib making sure his blanket didn't drape on his face and frighten him all over again. He looked at me and I felt his arm with a single stroke, silently wishing him better dreams and a good night's sleep.

Ah, my baby. It wrenches my heart to know that there will be only so many more moments like this. He's growing so quickly. I must cherish every one.

Random, Eclectic Post

I love Annika. In the ensuing month, Annika is totally and completely potty trained. It took me probably 3 months to get to this point with my other kids. Part of it is me. I'm older, wiser and better at potty training. But part is her and she is great. If things keep going as is, she'll be sleeping pull-up free by next month.

I did read a couple more books in the weeks since I've posted anything. I read Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou. It was very Maya. It's a collection of short stories from the author's life. All of them are interesting. Some of them are a bit lurid. Still, it's a good book. I can see why it's a best seller and I'd recommend it.

I also read Outliers: A Story of Success by Malcom Gladwell. This was a real page turner for me. It's a non-fiction book about how successful people have become successful and how to apply their stories of success to help create our own. Partly, it points out that there is no such thing as a "self-made man." For people who reach high levels of success, there is cultural heritage, parenting, community and all those who were willing to give chances or create breaks for people who eventually became wildly successful. If these people weren't given the chances to succeed by others' efforts, then it becomes probable that these successes might have failed.

One of my personal favorites in this book is the research showing the fallacy of connecting IQ with success. There is a point at which if you are "smart enough" having a baseline IQ of 130 or higher, your chance at success is the same. Having and IQ of 195 doesn't necessarily mean that you'll be a bigger success because all those community things also come into play. I could go on and on. I think every educator should read this book. I also think that if you have some kids who are naturally bright and others that struggle, this book is one to read.

Beck

Beck is 15 months today...or was it yesterday? It's so hard to decide when your child's B-day is the 29th and there is no 29th of the month. (Weird side note... On the 26th of Feb I had to check Nathan out of school for a dentist appt that really deserves it's own post. But when I got to school the last half dozen or so parents had all written the date as Feb 29. This is especially weird since there is NO 29th until 2012!!!)

I'd love to wax poetic and say...here are 15 things I love about Beck, but it's 11:45 and I can't guarantee that I can get that many. Anyhoo...

1. Beck jumps on his bed. He's been doing this since he was 8-9 months old. It's awesome and hilarious.

2. Noises. Everything right now goes "vrrrooom" or "zzzoooom". And by everything I mean spoons, rubber ducks and orange cylinder blocks. Everything.

3. More noises. He also blows bubbles, raspberries and sticks his tongue in and out going "lad-el, lad-el".

4. He mews like a cat. It's high pitched and hard to hear, but it sounds just like Sneeze.

5. He throws books down the stairs. Wendell doesn't think it cute, but I think it's hilarious.

6. He LOVES garbage. He empties the recycle bin onto the kitchen floor several times a day.

7. He still sucks his two middle fingers.

8. He's named his blanket Bob. I think he was aiming for "baba" but it kept getting cut short to Bob and that's what we all call it now.

9. He says the names of most member of our family. Anson and Nathan he says best while shouting. At 12 months he could say Anson extraordinarily well. He'll also wander the house calling sweetly for "Aaaaa-ka." (Annika)

10. He LOVES peek-a-boo. Best game ever.

11. He love playing the piano both a little one my mom bought for Annika and the real one. Although, he's mostly only drawn to the real piano during practice time.

12. He dances. At the little plastic piano, he'll put on a song then hold on to the piano and bounce his knees up and down. So freakin' cute!!!

13. Hanging upside down is second only to hide and seek. Since he was 10 months or so we'd say, "Ready, set, GO!" He'll let out a giggle and flop backwards until he's upside down suspended only by his legs.

14. Bouncing on the bed. You could probably turn me into child services for this, but when Beck was about 4 months old, I dropped him on the bed from a short distance and got HUGE smiles. Soon he was giggling and he had an amazing way of keeping himself very compact. Now it's tons of fun. We drop him on the couch at church, the couch at home and on the bed.

15. Flips. He love to be flipped on the bed and off of laps, where he lands on his feet.

Ya-hoo! I did it 15 funny things about Beck. Tomorrow I'll try to find ya some pics of the little guy. For the record, these are Beck's 1 year pics which were taken Jan 26th. Afterward we cut his hair. Now he looks like a little man.

Pinewood Derby and Potty Training

Now that Anson's eight, he's a cub scout. In fact, he's the newest cub scout in our ward. So we had our introduction to the pinewood derby. Seeing as I have no brothers, it was also my introduction. Wendell (and Anson) obsessively worked on the car almost everyday for a week and a half. But it must have been worth it--Anson won!

He was so cute kneeling down at the end of the track shouting, "GO! GO! GO!" as his car won all three matches.

The leaders also gave out a special award to each boy based on the design of the car. Anson's award was "Wood Chewer." Honestly, he was just as excited to win that one, although, he is a competitive soul.

Meanwhile, I've been occupied potty training Annika. She has only had one #1 accident in 9 days of potty training. Thanks in large part to months of "practicing" with pull-ups. If only we could get #2 in the potty from start to finish.

Yesterday I spent about 1 solid hour cleaning up poop from a catastrophic accident. I'll spare you the details, but I was out of patience and my hands were bleeding from washing them so many time when I was done. Bleh.

Goals

One of my goals for 2009 is to read 20 books. I'm blushing putting that in ink, because I worry that my friend, Emma (who I named my Emma after) will read this post and gasp.

Here's my confession. As the year's have gone by and I've accumulated children, I've found myself reading books less and less. Now, let me be clear. I still read a lot: magazines, newspapers, blogs, articles on the Internet. It is not unusual for me to spend a couple hours a day reading. But not books. The last couple of years I probably haven't cleared 10 books a year.

Thus my goal to read 20 books this year.

So, I'm going to put a little space in my side bar and track the titles of the books I read. And for your reading pleasure, I'll also offer a brief review of the books.

Number 1: The Wednesday Letters by Jason F. Wright

I actually started this book in December, but I finished it in January, so I think that counts. The book begins with an older couple, Jack and Laurel Cooper, dying in each other's arms one night at the bed-and-breakfast that they own. Their three children must now all return for the funeral and to deal with their parents personal effects. One of the sons is a fugitive with outstanding warrants for his arrest in his home town. He must also face his one true love, who is engaged to another man.

Among their parents things, the children discover boxes upon boxes of letters, written by their father to their mother every Wednesday. This book is touching in a way that quietly makes you want to start your own Wednesday Letters tradition. This book is also squeaky clean with no swear words or sex scenes. It was fantastic and I highly recommend it.

Number 2: Dewey: the Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World by Vicki Myron and Bret Witter

The fact that a book with such a boring title could be a New York Time's Bestseller in the Adult Non-fiction category intrigued me. It's a true story of a librarian (the author, Vicki) who found a kitten in the book return box in the late 1980's on the coldest day of the year and convinced the library board to let her keep the cat, Dewey Readmore Books, in the library. But it's also so much more. It's about an amazing cat and difficult times for Iowa farmers. It's about how the cat lifted the community's spirits by sitting on laps and sleeping in boxes. And even that is inadequate. The Job-like trials that the author experienced and the sustaining love from this cat, with his own set of problems, makes you both appreciate your own pets and wish that you had known Dewey.

This book is also very clean: one swear word and no sex scenes. Let me say however, that neither of these books are children's books. When I learned that my 6th grade niece was reading Dewey, I called my sister, told her what the book entailed and suggested she read it herself before deciding if her daughter could handle it. If I were giving these books and age range I'd say 15 and up.

I bet you're dying to know what I'll read next. I'll keep you posted.

Anson's Baptism Part I

Anson turned 8 on Thursday, Oct 30th. Friday was Halloween and Saturday was Nov 1st. Anson was going to get baptised just 2 days after his birthday with a fun-filled, busy weekend virtually every moment.

A couple of weeks before Anson's birthday, I called our Ward Mission Leader to set up Anson's baptism. I told this guy that we'd like to have Anson's baptism at 3-4 o'clock. (Our Stake baptisms go from 1-5 pm.)

I got a call back from our mission leader that Anson's baptism was scheduled for 12:30. No, I told him, that wouldn't do. Wendell needed to get as close to a full work day in as possible and Wendell would miss his own kid's baptism if we did it that early. Well, he told us, everything else was booked.

We never had this problem with Emma, although, I think I started working on her baptism a couple of weeks before her birthday, which would have been a month before her baptism.

Our ward mission leader called me back and suggested that we share a baptism program with another family in our ward. Not only is this child one of 10 children, but they have a very close, very large extended family. I didn't know where they'd put all of us. Sure, I told the mission leader, we'd be happy to share the time slot if we had a different room where we could do our own program.

Eventually, the ward mission leader and the high counselor in charge reneged and agreed to let us baptize Anson at 5:30 pm.

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Nov 1st arrived. My mom and I took Anson out and purchase nice leather bound scriptures for his baptism present (my folks gave him the Bible, Wendell and I gave him the Triple Combination) and pick up rolls, etc.

As we drove past the Stake Center my mom suggested we stop by to check Anson's baptism time and make sure everything was all right. When we talked with the couple in charge of Stake Baptisms, we were shocked to find that we weren't even on the list. Anson's name wasn't there and no 5:30 time slot.

The couple added us to the list and said how grateful they were we stopped by. If we hadn't gotten there when we did, we would have arrived to find the font empty and filling it takes quite a while. They also pointed out a girl and her family who, strangely, had not shown up earlier in the day at the 12:30 time.

Come to find out that was for us, only instead of saying Anson the slot was reserved for Annika--all of 2.5. I am totally not kidding. Our ward mission leader and the high counselor in charge REALLY messed that up. Luckily, except for making my heart skip a beat, everything went off without a hitch--more on that in Part II.

Have you ever asked...

Scrawled on the tiniest shred of paper and covered in tape was a phone number. It was barely legible, but I dialed the number at Nathan's insistence to try to make a play date with a friend from school.

Fortunately for me, the number rang through into voicemail where the woman said her name--Alyssa, I think. She called back immediately and when we realized how close we lived to each other we were pleasantly surprised. We had grown up in the same stake and went to the same high school, although enough years apart that we never crossed paths.

Her older brother was in my high school class (Kevin Clegg, for the benefit of a couple of friends who would know). He and I didn't run in the same social circles, but I could pick him out of a line-up.

The play date went wonderfully without a single outburst from Nathan. When Alyssa showed up to pick up her son, she said, "We would love to have Nathan over next week. We would love to have Nathan as a friend. I would love to have you as a friend." She paused a moment and confessed, "I don't really have any friends here yet."

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Some of you may remember this post where I basically said the same thing. Most of my friends from high school and college live in different states or countries. So I made friendship more of a priority last year. Probably the first brave thing I did was attend Blogapalooza in May, where, coming to the event, I knew only one person.

But I met others, whose blogs I now follow and who I sometimes get to hang out with. Then I had rekindled (sounds almost romantic, but I just mean we started hanging out again) a friendship with a high school friend who just lives a couple cities north. We've gone to lunch, or chatted on the phone at least once a month since. Finally, this fall I restarted the Young Mother's Luncheon in my ward. Once a month ward members with young kids get together for a pot luck lunch and bring all the kids.

That ache, of having friends far, but not near, has dissipated. But I know exactly where Alyssa's coming from. Exactly. You should have seen her face light up when I told her about the Young Mother's Luncheon. I've realized I should invite her to walk at the mall and, who knows, perhaps she and I will be come close friends, too.

But the thing that impressed me most of all was Alyssa's courage. Have you ever said to someone, "I don't have many friend's yet, would you be my friend?" I haven't, but I'm glad she did.

Guilt and Blogging

I've been avoiding blogging out of guilt. Anson got baptized Nov 1st, but have I blogged about it? No. There was Halloween, but it's lacking a post too. On Nov 29th Beck turned 1, still no post. Christmas, New Year's, funny quotes by the kids and still no post. I've gotten so far behind that I'm embarrassed--mortified really. I mean, how can you miss your kid's baptism or birthday and call yourself a blogger?

So I haven't read any blogs either. Obviously, that would just further the guilt and shame. All of you doing such a nice job documenting your lives and your children's lives...everybody but me. The SHAME!!!

So I guess, you could call this my confession and I'm still going to try to catch up, but I must also press forward.

Pumas and Webelos

After tithing* settlement in December, we said a brief hello to the family behind us and headed out to the car. As Annika got to the car she paused and sniffed the air.

"I smell a puma!" she declared, then turned around and saw our neighbor's white dog, who had followed them to church. In one bloodcurdling scream after another, Annika let us know she saw the puma.

On the ride home as Annika retold the story to me she said, "Then I saw Sammy the white dog and I freaked out, but it wasn't a puma it was just Sammy the white dog."

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Wendell’s in charge of the 10-year-old scouts in our ward and at the last den meeting they’d made fully edible marshmallow snowmen using marshmallows, toothpicks and candies. The following day, my mom came to watch Annika and Beck for an hour. Mom inquired of Annika about the card table still set up in the middle of the living room.

“We sat here and ate marshmallows and Webelos,” Annika informed Mom.

“Webelos?” Mom wondered. “You ate…Webelos?”

“I had two of them,” Annika explained tipping her head and gesturing about the size of the candies, “they were kind of …minty.”

Handsome Anson

On Oct 30th Anson turned 8. To celebrate, here are 8 things I love about Anson.

1. He's earnest. He was horrified to learn that he had to wear jeans to cub scouts. He hates jeans. He likes shorts, sweat pants, "swishy" pants and even slacks better than jeans. But on his first den meeting there he was all suited up in his new cub scout shirt and jeans.

2. He's spiritual. Anson doesn't just want to know the answers to Sunday School questions, he wants to know the whys. The more he knows, the more he can choose the right. And he's quick to confess and always wants to make things right.

3. He is the best at finding stuff. Lost your shoes, keys, book, etc? Ask Anson for help. He searches everywhere and is most likely to find whatever you're looking for.

4. He's cute! Ahhhh. It's true. He's just adorable.

5. He's my all-American kid. He is good at everything. Soccer, baseball, tae-kwon-do, reading, math, music. He's well liked by his teachers and he has tons of friends.

6. Anson has an amazing ear for music. If he gets stuck on something in piano, all have to do is play it for him once and he can repeat it very easily.

7. He's tidy. He is my best helper for picking up and he likes his room clean.

8. When he loves something, he loves it passionately. For years his thing was Power Rangers, now they've taken a back seat and he's crazy about Pokemon. Nearly everyday, he comes home with a new card that he's traded for a pencil, eraser, or treat. He studies up on their energies and damage and loves to play the complex Pokemon game.

(The picture of Anson is him wearing his helmet that he got with his skateboard for his birthday.)

In My Mouth

"Hello," Annika said while sitting at the kitchen table for lunch. "Hello," she answered herself in a husky voice. Obviously delighted with herself she blurted out, "Mom! I'm talking to Diego in my mouth!"

(Annika is a HUGE Go Diego Go fan.)

Catch Up

Last week Anson turned 8 the next day was Halloween and Saturday was Anson's baptism. I'm working on getting pics and further update. First, I have to face the music at WW tomorrow morning.

Happy 11 Months to Beck

Beck finally, just today cut his first tooth. No kidding. When Emma turned 1 she had 11 teeth. When Anson turned 1 he had 12 teeth. Nathan had 8 and Annika, 6. Six, by the way is average. So it is odd indeed that Beck finally has 1 tooth. But, hooray!

Other funny things Beck does:
* He jumps on his bed. He's been doing this since he was 9 months old. He just holds onto the side and jumps.
* He can stand up, for a little while any way. Not only can he pull up on things and push away to stand, he can also just stand up, for a few seconds.
*He makes these lips--puckered up like he just ate a lemon. Although he's usually mad when he does it, I find it sooooo kissable. So I smooch those puckered lips every chance I get.

My Crazy Back-Door Neighbor Part 2

So Wendell finally picked up the phone the other day and he'd called to say that he could see we had a few apples in our tree (that were too high for us to reach, even with a ladder) and he knew someone who had donated boxes of fruit to the homeless shelter.

MYOB, please.

My Crazy Back-Door Neighbor

All two of you in my ward (you know who you are) who read this blog, shhhhhhhhhhhh. You may not repeat this story.

I have a crazy back-door neighbor. His wife, thankfully, is both sane and one of the kindest, gentlest people I know. My only concern for her is that I am not sure she knows her husband is crazy.

During the summer he called. "Hello," he says identifying himself by his first and last names and where he lives, "You have apricots hanging into my yard."

I smile, "Yes, Brother Crazy-Back-Door-Neighbor, you may have any of the fruit poking into your yard."

"Well, I have enough apricots, but I hate to see them spoil. How about the rest of the tree, can I have those too."

(Conversation in my head: Yes, please bring your ladder, climb into my tree and take all you want. Feel free to pick fruit from any of my fruit trees and you're welcome into the back yards of other neighbors that my fruit hangs over the fence into their yards as well.)

Real conversation: Um, no, no we'll use those ourselves. Bye.

Periodically, he leaves messages on our phone. Because he sells Amway the messages are usually cryptic, it's just very important for us to call back.

A couple days ago he called and left his first, middle and last name as well as his location--"your back door neighbor." Phew. That cleared things up. I'll definitely call back now that I have all three of your names, because recently a guy with the same first and last name moved into your house and called me about random stuff, but now that I know it's you and not him, I'll call back right away.

Pumpkin Land

Wendell put together this slide show of EVERY picture we took at Pumpkin Land. If you watch the whole thing, I'll give you something...a chocolate maybe. I can barely watch the whole thing and they're my kids.

Still, it's cute. There are some awesome ones of Annika at the end.

Usual Day vs Perfect Day

I suppose it wasn't actually usual, but the other day went so abismally that I wondered what the perfect day would look like.

Last Friday the following things happened:

*Skipped breakfast so I'd weigh less at WW
*Annika threw up
*Never went to WW
*Emailed School Community Council
*Tried to take a nap
*Annika jumped on my bed during aforementioned nap knocking a picture off the wall and onto my head
*Loaded kids in the car to get out of house
*Attempted to get fluoride prescriptions at Walgreens
*Got 10 pills, I have to come back next week
*Drove to Wendell's work
*Begged for gum, came home with three packs
*Nathan wet his pants, because
*Annika (who I'm starting to potty train) was "using the potty" and poop had fallen out of her pull-up onto the bathroom floor
*Gave up and figured I'd start tomorrow

This is what the perfect day would look like:

*Wake rested
*read scriptures
*exercise
*fold laundry for 10 minutes
*eat nutritious, easy to fix, yummy meals
*organize some part of the house
*read to Annika and play with Beck
*do homework, piano and chores with zero complaining
*visit with Wendell
*go to bed early

The Case of the Brothers

I was in the school office the other day as was our lead STAR tutor. (Star Tutoring is a special reading program to help kids, who are behind get up to grade level.)

I asked if she knew these brothers. Yes, she did. Then I explained that they were the first kids in the school to complete a reading program that is supposed to take 9 months. She shook her head the whole time I was talking and summed up, "Those boys are not capable of what you just explained to me."

My question to her was, "What do I do?"

She and the assistant secretary (another STAR tutor) thought I should call the boys' mother and explain the program. They gave me her number and I called.

I began with apologizing about how confusing the program was this year. That is true. My sister is helping me this year and she incorrectly explained the program in 5 of the 9 classes. (I did the explaining in the other 4.) This has required emails to the teachers and notes home to the parents to clear up--and still a lot of people are confused.

I was going to explain the program, how it's supposed to take all school year, how only books read this school year count, etc. But she stopped me after the apology and told me that when her boys had read 10 books, they went to pick up the prize and were denied by someone who didn't understand the changes made in the program.

So the boys took their lists home and "read a book a day" until they finished. These include the entire Harry Potter series--all 7 books. Emma reads over 200 words per minute and she has never read a Harry Potter book in 1 day. But the mom's math didn't add up either.

She said, "When they brought the lists home, we had about 2 weeks until the prize redemption day, so we read a book a day until they finished."

But when they brought the lists home they had only read 10 books, by her admission. So in 14 days, these boys read over twenty 4th - 8th grade level books. There is not another child in the school who has done that. I think only 1 has even reached 20 books, and only a handful have read over 10. So we have confirmed that these boys are THE most advanced readers in the entire school.

BTW, their mother won't let them be in resource, even though they qualify. She has requested that nothing special be done to help them. My suspicion is that her own bad experience in resource serves as a guide for that decision.

So after being told all that on the phone by the mother, there was nothing for me to do, but compliment her boys on the astounding feat and get off the phone. I have to admit that I have thought of one more angle. Since I don't want such advanced readers to be bored, I've thought of talking with their mother and suggesting that they do it again. That should be easy for them, especially when most of the kids have only red 2-3 books so far.

I'll let you know if I get any results.

Ethical Dilemma

I started an upper grade reading program at my kids' elementary school a couple years ago. Each year we tweak it a little bit, trying to get more kids to participate. Well, we've hit the jackpot. We have so many kids participating this year, I don't even know how we will afford the prizes for every one.

But this is where the dilemma comes in. The kids get different prizes for reading certain amount of books. 10 books is a small prize, 20 books a bigger prize and 30 is the biggest prize. At least half of the books must be read off of a certain list of books to get each prize.

We had our first prize redemption day today and almost all of the kids coming to get prizes had read 10-17 books--a reasonable amount for less than 2 months of the school year. But these brothers came in with 30 books signed off. All 30. These boys are not smart kids or fast readers. At least the one Emma's age is in resource/special ed. Their mother is more than half a bubble off as well. What I think they did is write down all the books the boys have ever read, that they can remember.

The younger one, who's Emma's age even told me, "Some of these I've already read."

"Well," I said, "I don't want to know what you've already read, bud. I only want to know what you've read this school year. If you read it during the summer or last year--it doesn't count. Here's a pen. I want you to circle all of the books you've read this school year."

"Oh," he said, "but I read all these this school year so do you want me to circle them all?"

I ended up sending the boys in to get the prize for reading 10 books and asked them to come back next month to get the prize for 20. As I said, these boys are far from bright. I could get them another prize out of the 1st prize level next time and they'd never know.

I suppose I have no proof that they didn't read all those books, but I just don't know how to deal with it. I mean I have 20 honest kids, then 2 dishonest ones. Do I penalize the honest kids? Do I make them all do book reports?

Next year I'll just have to get crappy prizes, but this year the prizes are awesome. $2 prizes for reading 10 books, $5 prizes for reading 20 and $8-$10 prize for reading 30. Plus, all the kids who read 30 are supposed to get a gift card to go to a book store. Last year we had only 2 kids do the reading. This year, we'll have tons!!! But not all of them will deserve the reward.

That is my quandary. Do you have any ideas?

Baby Beck Update

About a month ago, shortly after our return from Seattle, Beck had his 9 month appointment. I can't remember what they measured him, but they told me he was in the 70% for his height. I don't believe that for a second. I saw where the nurse measured him and it was a very generous spot. He's tops 60% for his height, but more likely 50%.

His weight was 16.1 lbs which means he's pretty much maintaining the 1% for his weight. To be honest, I was ecstatic about how much he had gained. I was told to start feeding him whole milk because he won't take formula and he needs a lot more calories than he's getting.

But I think he looks healthy, don't you?

Tagged!

I got tagged by my sister-in-law Debbie. Her post is great. Apparently, she had a bit too much fun in Germany...

1. If I stay up too late at night, I get a serious case of the giggles.

2. My vision is extraordinarily bad. My prescription is +.875 in my good eye and +.925 in my bad eye.

3. I have a fantastic memory. Often, I am able to quote conversations almost word for word even years later. I think that would make me a great witness if the occasion ever arose.

4. I have always wanted to serve jury duty, but I've never been called up.

5. I can hardly spell. I work very hard to keep this from my children. I don't what I'd do without my Google Spell Check on my Google toolbar.

6. I've know Wendell for half my life, but we've only been married for 11 years.

7. I am a stickler on certain pronunciations. For example, often rhymes with soften; there's no "T" sound.

I'm gonna tag Tamma, Tiffany, Zoila, Alisa, Angie, Shahara and Andrea.

A Message of Hope

This General Conference* I felt such a message of hope and comfort. Right now it feels like I use my blog to exclusively report what friend or relative of mine died. My brother-in-law Michael lost his father yesterday. Unfortunately, he was coming back from a international business trip (to where, I don't know) and Christy, my sister, was unable to get a hold of him until today.

So, poor Michael had only his flight from LA and his drive from the airport to process his dad's death and talk with his family about funeral arrangements, because today is his daughter's 12th birthday. When he got home he's supposed to be happy and joyful.

Michael's dad was only 58, although he had suffered from Crohn's disease for years. In recent months he had complete kidney failure. The kids had all been tested for donating a kidney and Michael and his younger brother Joseph were the best matches. Phil, had both his kidneys removed and was on dialysis while they weaned him off his pain killers. Once he was well enough, he'd get the replacement kidney. But he never got well enough.

After his last dialysis session, he slipped into that other world while resting. When his wife came home from the pharmacy with his prescription, she found him. He looked like he was sleeping, but she knew the moment she stepped in the room that he was gone.

So these conference talks were very timely for my family.

I am so glad that I believe in Jesus Christ and the resurrection. I am glad that I know of eternal families and that as sure as I know anything, I know that Michael will see his dad again. Christy and Michael's youngest son (3) calls Michael's dad, "the grandpa with the black shoes." But Charlotte (5) told me today, "Grandpa's shoes are white now."

That's right, sweet girl. Grandpa has white shoes in heaven.

*Mormon 101: General Conference is a twice annual meeting for members of the LDS Church broadcast from Salt Lake City. The Prophet (President of the church) and all of the Apostles speak as well as other General Authorities (high ranking church officials), including women.

Uplifting Funeral

As a kid I went to a lot of funerals. My mom was the Relief Society President* and our ward had a retirement community trailer court, so people died all the time and we kids had to come with mom to the funeral. But the people were all old.

When Wendell's cousin committed suicide at age 13, it was such a tremendous shock. The feeling of, we shouldn't be here, permeated the services. So I didn't really know what to expect when I went to Matt's funeral. Since he was a young father (36) of six children ages 11 to 18 months. He and his wife Crystal would have celebrated their 12 anniversary next month. I really thought that there might have been an air of despair. Not so.

There was such a peace at this meeting. IDispite his youth, it seemed like it was Matt's time to go. He had done all the Lord wanted him to do and had been called home.

Crystal is an amazingly strong woman. She and Matt were very righteous people, but without an inkling of piousness. They were just down to earth, regular people who were always trying to do the right thing.

I'm so glad that I went to the funeral. Crystal and I are about the same age, been married about the same length of time with about the same number of kids. So the death of her dear husband hit me hard, even though I haven't seen them in over 7 years. It was just so close to home, you know.

My prayers will continue to be with the Budge family, but it's nice to know that they're alright. That the Lord has given them peace.

*Mormon 101: Relief Society President is the leader of the women's organization of the congregation or ward.

So You've Had a Bad Day

Have you ever had a day where you learned a friend from a previous ward died, leaving his wife of 12 years and their 6 children behind (please pray for the Budge family, will you?) and then you get a call from the police telling you that your hubby's car was broken into, the crooks broke the dash to steal a $200 radio, then they took all the paper work in his glove box, $400+ worth of new clothes and shoes your hubby had on the back seat and his Oakley sunglasses?

Well, it was one of those days.

At least the crooks were too dumb to steal the $1000+ worth of golf clubs, balls, shoes, etc. And we're glad that Wendell didn't leave his laptop in the car.

Remember...

OK, this is for a couple of my Wyview buddies.

Remember the Waddoups? Well Shawn is in the newspaper. Here's the article.

http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/282198/17/

Advising Pres. Bush about Afghanistan. How cool is that?

Things to Remember

When taking 4 kids to the grocery store (one is at a birthday party), please remember to bring your purse. Otherwise you have to:
* leave your grocery cart at the front of the store with an employee
* carry both babies out to the car while shouting at the older children to stay nearby
* drive home
* leave a note for the party goer
* drive back
* buy said groceries
*and hurry home

Although, if you bring your money with you....well, where's the adventure in that?

I'm sooo....

(Tune from West Side Story "I'm so Pretty") I'm.... so.... bu-sy. Oh, so busy. I'm busy and wizzy and hay.....

I know wizzy is not a real word, but as we all know from Dr. Seuss it is not the word, but the rhyme that is important.

I would like to apologize to my vast readership of 6 people for my significant absence from my blog. The last couple of weeks I've had to get our upper grade reading program going again (with a major overhaul that I'm hoping will make it better) and I'm the chair of our School Community Council. Gosh, there is more to that assignment than I thought.

The principal and I had a meeting a couple of weeks ago to discuss teacher incentive pay. Yours truly will be one of 4 parents, who, in partnership with the principal, will decide which teachers get incentive pay and how much they get.

This will be done on a Professional Development day when my kids are out of school. I'm working to get Wendell to take that day off and do something fun with the kiddos while I'm stuck at school for 4+ hours making sure that most of the teachers hate me.

To make the best decision possible, I am supposed to attend collaboration meetings for every grade. This is held on early out Mondays for 1 hour. This would be no problem except that my kids have to be picked up from piano lessons and my babies have to go down for naps while I do this. Seven times. Or more, preferably, by Feb.

Meanwhile, some stupid law maker decided that SCC (School Community Council) needs to post their agendas one week before the meeting not one day before the meeting like last year. So, by tomorrow, I have to have next month's agenda ready and I'm already behind about 5 emails. (One to the lady who didn't come, one to the whole council to read the minutes, one to the teachers in charge of the Math committee to find out while the scores have tanked between 5th and 6th grades for the last 4 years, etc.)

So I haven't blogged. I haven't told you about our trip to Seattle and I never finished telling you about the last three days of vacation to San Diego. And I've meant to post more "10 random reasons I love Wendell" just to make my blog icky. But alas.

I've still got a poster board to make and receipts to submit and newsletter articles to write. So off I go. Don't know when I'll see you again, but having repented of my lack of blogging, hopefully it will be soon.

Magic

One day Annika was demanding that I get her one thing after another. I stopped her and said, "What's the magic word?"

"Spanish," Annika replied.

When I started laughing she ventured an alternate suggestion, "Spanish rice?"

*******************

When we were on vacation this summer Annika awoke one morning and crept over to Wendell's side of the bed. Then she said loudly in a sing-song voice, "Dah, dah, DAH...I'm a-wake!"

Purple People Eaters

BYU 28 Washington 27

What a game! I'll tell you all about my trip to see the Cougs in Seattle in a bit, but in the meantime GO COUGARS!!!

Drum roll....

So after getting all excited to share my career dream with you, I kinda copped out by just printing it on one line of the last post. It was the one that said "this had been my big dream lately" on the line.

I got myself all hyped up to do organizational behavior consulting. I have a list of 20 classes that I want to take at UVU, just for fun. Then I found out it would cost over $600 a class. I was disappointed, but undaunted, so I was a trying to figure out how to get that money so I could take a class next semester. Then I talked to Wendell about it, who said, "Who would hire you?" and I got really deflated.

Then I talked to my mom and said, "If I want to take a class would you be disappointed with me?" She said kinda. Then she came around to saying that she didn't care as long as she didn't have to babysit. (I was hoping she'd be willing to babysit for 1-2 hours a week when Wendell wasn't there.)

So, I just lost all hope. I know, anti-climatic, huh?

Indecision

As I child I was indecisive at times. I remember one lunch when I was four or five where my mom asked me if I wanted my left over spaghetti with sauce on it or plain. I couldn't decide. I wanted sauce, then plain, then sauce, the plain. Whatever she did I was sure to want the other as soon as my lunch was given to me. I got my spaghetti with sauce that day and choked in down with disappointment and tears.

For years I wanted to be a veterinarian when I grew up. I loved animals. I started a pet care business when I was ten and shut it down when I was 16 only because I was too busy--I still had plenty of clients.

At 15, when my dog died, (the dog I had had since I was 4) I new that I could never be a vet. Putting animals to sleep is a part of a vets job and I knew that I couldn't get used to that.

I decided to be a doctor. I wanted to be and OB and deliver babies. Later I figured I'd be a pediatrician so I could spend more time with the babies, although the lure of helping pregnant women sounded enticing.

At the end of high school I took one of those career tests. When I got mine, the most notable thing was that I had a big fat zero in adventure, but I scored very high on leadership marks, so the test recommended I seek a career in the military. My friends and I hooted over that one.

In college I started out as Zoology Pre-med, but after sleeping through my science classes my first semester, I figured I'd lost all hope of becoming a doctor. (For the record, I went back and retook one of those classes to get a much better grade.)

I remember feeling adrift and not wanting to be one of "those" people who are perennial students who never pick a major. I had thoroughly enjoyed my newspaper class so I went into communications. I eventually picked "Broadcast Sales" as my emphasis because, 1) it would be super easy and 2) I enjoy selling.

As soon as I graduated, I regretted my choice. I remember trying to convince Wendell to let me go back to school and get a teaching certificate. He said it was his turn to go to school and I needed to work.

I continue to have an odd assortment of aspirations. Here are the jobs I'd love to have.

personal finance coach
motivational speaker
principal
part-time kindergarten teacher
school librarian
sales associate in a women's clothing store (so I could get lots of new clothes with the employee discount)
organizational behavior consultant (this has been my biggest dream recently)
advertising consultant (I'd just look at ads and tell if they were too stupid to be put on the air)
writer for magazines
parenting expert
and of course, stay-at-home mom my current occupation

A Postponed Promise and My New Favorite Blogger

I promised that I would tell you about my big dream, and I will. But I told it to Wendell first (bad mistake) who shot it down, told me I was nuts and that he loved me, but I was wasting my time trying to go after it and couldn't I be just like other SAHM's and go into teaching. So I'm feeling all fragile and nervous.

The author of I Can Do Anything If I Only I Knew What It Was, Barbara Sher, says--this is paraphrased loosely--if you go up to a complete stranger and say something really crazy like, "My dream is to raise dalmatians in the Himalayas. But I don't know anything about dogs and I have no connections in the Himalayas." The stranger would probably say, "Wow! What a cool dream...you know I know some one who raises dogs," or "I have a relative in Tibet." The long and the short is--they would support you unconditionally. Now tell a family member your dream and they're likely to tell you that you're nuts. Suffice it to say that I may as well have told Wendell that I'm raising dalmatians in the Himalayas.

So I already lied about "tomorrow" so how about I post about something else altogether.

My little sister Andrea (aka Wookie Princess) has started blogging.
I am so stoked. She is one of THE best writers on the face of the planet, although I'm probably a little biased. Just to show you how cool she is, here is a sampling from her last post.

"We all live so meanly.... aching for abundance that can't be purchased on Overstock or sold for half-price on e-bay. And so we write, waiting to be read. In the words of CS Lewis, we read to know we are not alone... And so a generation searches for each other across the endless space of consumerism and reads and blogs to know that we are, in fact, not alone."

Cool, huh? (I don't mind that when you compare our writing I look like a drooling idiot.)

Sophisticated

While Emma was home from church today with a fever we had this conversation.

E: Playing with Annika is hard. She's so much littler than I am. I mean, when she wants me to play something with her I just think it's stupid. And when I want her to play with me...well, my games are just much too sophisticated for her.

Only Two

"Why are you so cute?" my dad asked Annika today.

"I don't know. I'm only two!" she answered.

***************************************

Annika: Read, the book. Read the book. Read the book. Mama, read the book. Read the book. Mama! Mama, read the book. (Sigh.) READ THE BOOK, FOR HEAVEN SAKES!

PS I read the book.

Dream Big

Every now and then you hear about somebody doing something crazy, like the woman who parachuted out of an airplane on her 80th birthday. Crazy... maybe. But fun, too and something that fulfills a dream.

I remember hearing about a family that took a year off from work and school to travel the world. Most of us probably shake our heads and say, "Where do you get the financial resources for a trip like that? I can't imagine taking more than a week off from work and we'd NEVER miss school!"

But what does your heart say? Do you ever hear of a news making, dream fulfilling story that makes your heart long for a dream of it's own? Is your dream so crazy big that you could never pull it off?

I've heard my mom say she'd love to write a book or become a real estate agent or both. "Go for it!" we say. I've even sent her emails about writers conferences that make her almost giggle. "But I can't," she usually says. Whether the excuse is that it conflicts with Dad's work or that my sister and I might need her to babysit, there's a reason she can't go "do" her dream.

I've been spending a lot of time trying to think about my dream. Like my mom, I have more than one. But the one that meets the most resistance, requires the most effort and would be the hardest to schedule; that's the one my heart really longs for.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you what that dream is and why I can't do it. But for now, what's your dream? If you could do anything what would it be?

Stand and Impede

Beck stood up yesterday. He only started sitting up by himself a day or two after his 8-month-mark, yet before he's even 8.5 months, he pulled himself to standing. Yikes! He's really on the move.

Beck's standing up also scared me to death. I heard him crying in his bedroom. He went from quietly crying to hysterical in no time, so when I rushed in I found him standing in his crib and dangerously too tall. I scooped him up and before he went to bed, I lowered to crib.

***********************************

Last night as I tried to get the kids to do some math, chores and help me with Beck while I prepared dinner, I was barking orders one after another. Emma (9) was struggling to put a Cheerio in Beck's mouth, get a pencil and pick up something else I needed, all while holding her math workbook.

"Mom!" she said with clear exasperation, "How do you expect me to follow ALL your instructions? As soon as I start to do one thing, you give me another instruction that impedes my progress!"

When she looked up at me, I was grinning.

"What?" she asked.

"I love that you just used the word 'impede'," I replied.

"Well, you always use it, so I know what it means and I used it correctly."

"Yes you did."

Favorite

Nathan appeared from playing downstairs. "What ya doin'?" he asked.

"Making dinner."

"Mmmm. Dinner is my favorite subject of the day."

Puppy

"I'm soaky," Annika announced at bedtime.

"Soaky-poky," I rhymed. "Do you need a diaper change?"

"Yea," Annika replied, "I'm a soaky, poky puppy!"

Baby Beck

Baby Beck is 8 months old! He decided to do everything this last month.

He now...

sits up with help from a pillow
rolls around
started to crawl
says, "Mama" (I kid you not. It is so distinct. I got it on video on my camera.)
sleeps in his own room

It's been a busy, busy month for him.

A Poem and A Dare

So I do a summer school for my kids every year. This week we are working on Poetry. Our first poem was Acrostic. "In Acrostic poems, the first letters of each line are aligned vertically to form a word. The word often is the subject of the poem."

As I was doing my own poem, I realized how uncomfortable I was saying that many positive things in a row about myself. It was weird. So, here comes the dare. I dare you to make an acrostic poem about yourself and post it on your blog. (Note: a dare is like a tag, only with my thumbs in my ears, my tongue sticking out and my hips swinging side to side.)

If you comment...I'll be watching.

Here's mine.

Juggling PTA jobs
Excellent mom
Nice
Nurturing
Adoring

Kind
Attitude
Thoughtful
Headstrong
Leader
Energetic
Enthusiastic
Needs household help

Economy

Does the economy scare anyone else right now? Whether it's job security, loss of wages or rising costs, a lot seems to be going on right now. I, for one, am a tad nervous.