Don't You Hate It When...

... you can't find the bathroom in the middle of the night.

***As told by Dare.  My 4 year old darling.***

Okay... so I have been Pull-Up free for quite a while now.  And I have to tell you, what a hassle it has been.  The main problem is... I still have to pee!  It was so nice to just lay in my bed and do my business.  But my mom got tired of buying those wonderful panty-diapers.  So now I have to wake-up and get out of bed.  I guess waking-up is not the problem... um... so much.  I just can't find the toilet.  My bladder feels so full it makes me cry.  All I can think of to do is run around my room crying.  Is it not in my room?  I'll pull my pants down just in case it materializes here soon.

Nope.  No toilet.

Maybe if I find the door, the toilet will be on the other side.  It's the hallway.  Is the toilet here?  I can't remember!  I'll just run up and down the hallway while crying to see if I can find it.

Dang!  No toilet.

There is a light on over there.  I'll go toward the light.  This looks right.  It has the right kind of floor, and the color white is everywhere.  

Crap.  I'm in the laundry room.

I will pull up my pants now so I can run faster because this is getting urgent.  I'm going to run this way.  Ouch!  I just ran face first into a wall.  What is wrong with my vision?  I'm crying, crying, CRYING.  Oh good.  I knew if I cried loud and long enough my mom would come to help me.  She is pulling me.  I don't think I can hold it.  There's the toilet.  I knew it was around here somewhere.  All I have to do is sit.  My mom is saying something to me.  What is wrong with my ears?  I can't understand a thing.  Oh... I forgot to pull my pants down.  What?  She is talking again.  Oh... I forgot to put the toilet seat up.  Sheesh.  She seems kind of crabby.

Ahhhh.  Much better.

Good night Mom.  See you tomorrow when I will remember nothing of this.  We will probably repeat the whole process tomorrow night.

I took a picture, but it does not do her confusion justice.  I am not exaggerating.  She does this EVERY night.

I'm playing along with the fun over at Blokthoughts.  Hope you had a laugh.

Tears

Rhon came home from school with tear streaks down her cheeks.  She had a problem, and there was nothing I could have done.  It was more difficult for me than for her, I think.  She is only 6.  There is no reason she should have to deal with sadness on her own.  It breaks my heart.  I keep picturing her crying all by herself, with no one to comfort her.  No one she trusts.  I can't do it.  I can't handle it.  I don't know what I'm going to do.

The whole family got sick.  Except Dare.  She somehow always manages to stay well.  G has massive diarrhea.  I can handle that.  Changing 15-20 diapers a day doesn't bother me.  It is his diaper rash that is the problem.  I know it happens with diarrhea.  I did everything I could think of to prevent it.  It still came.  And it is bad.  He is in so much pain.  I just want him to be comfortable.  I do what I can, but mostly... I'm helpless.

Today in Relief Society, the teacher related a story about someone she knows whose 16 month old baby drown in his own back yard.  I feel sick.  I can't bear to think of the pain this mother is feeling.  

Tears.  Tears.  Tears. 

Make Way

We were so happy to be able to go to Jut and Jen's wedding this last weekend.  It was such a wonderful ceremony, and I was very glad to be there.

I didn't take very many pictures all weekend.  It was kind of hard to do.

 

The boys looked so handsome.  The girls looked beautiful.  We were supposed to be at the temple at 1:45, and I started to get everyone ready at about 10.  I didn't have time to do the girls' hair and we still barely made it on time.  I don't know why it takes us so long to get ready. 

 It was dreadfully hot outside.  

Of all the kids, Mads liked dancing the most.  I had to practically drag the others on the dance floor.  

See that fountain?  That was the first thing I saw when I walked in.  I knew I had to be on my toes watching Dare and the boys around it.  They were interested, but it seemed to wear off.  While they were doing the garter thing, we went back over there for another look.  When we were done, I picked up G, and told Mads, "let's go."  I thought he was following me, but the next thing I see is Melissa trying to get my attention over to a soaking wet 2 year old.  I expected a leg maybe, or even his head from tipping over, but no... it was his whole body.  Shoes, pants, hair, even his cute little green tie.  Every inch of him was soaked.  He fell completely in.  I'm just glad someone was there to pull him out.  I wasn't at all surprised that of all the kids there, mine was the one who fell in the fountain.  I guess statistically my chances are better.

The trip wouldn't have been complete without someone getting sick.  And sure enough, Nate and Mads have been super sick the last couple days.  This has happened the last four trips to Arizona.  I'm starting to get suspicious. 

Sale Ends

Did you hear about that jeans sale at Old Navy?

A month or so ago, they had all their jeans on sale. $7 for kids and $12 for adults.  When you have five kids to buy jeans for, this is something you just can't pass up.  I didn't get there as soon as it opened like I had planned.  Mainly because my husband stays up until all hours (3 or 4 A.M.!!!) playing Xbox with his brothers, and can't get up in the morning.  So when I did get there, the line was horrendous.  I am talking an hour wait!  They had the people snaking through the whole store.  I'm not a happy shopper, and lines are not my thing, and since I had my whole family with me (we always do our Saturday outings together), I left.  I put down all the jeans I picked out, and left.  Oh well, I didn't actually care that much.  The girls' jeans are normally only $14 each anyway, so 50% off isn't that much... right?  

Then we went to the Farmers Market.  There is a different Old Navy right by it.  I decided to check it out.  It was an hour or so later, so the lines were gone, but so were most of the jeans.  I found a few for the girls, and a pair for SCM.  There weren't any for Mads.  As I was walking out I passed the table with women's jeans on it.  I don't need any jeans, and I have been waiting to get down to a proper size before I buy any new clothes.  But for $12, I thought it was worth a look.  I ended up buying 2 pair that were a size smaller than my current jeans.  I figured I was losing weight, and I would be able to wear them soon.  

A couple days ago, I tried on the jeans.  They fit perfectly!  I was pretty excited, even though it is still a size (or two) bigger than I want.  I was down a jeans size, and I didn't even have to squeeze in.  I immediately pulled the tags off and threw a shirt on.  I was off to do my grocery shopping.  

I went to Smith's first.  Then to Costco.  Oh how I love Costco!  The carts are big, the aisles are big, the food is big, and unfortunately, my tab is usually big.  The kids were great.  The day was rolling along smoothly.

We were listening to my favorite CD on the way home.  I didn't hold back today.  I was singing and swinging my hands around beating my air drum.  Okay, I'm not actually that lame, but the visual was funny, right?  We were about half-way home when I put my hand down on it's usual resting spot.  I sort of wedge it in between the outside of my thigh and the car seat.  I noticed something on my pants.  Is that what I think it is?  No. No. Nooooo!

Yup.  It was the sticker that shows the size of my jeans.  Not a little sticker.  A big, long sticker that says the size like 26 times.  As if you couldn't see the first one, it screams it at you... 26 26 26 26 26 26.  That is obviously not my size.  Unless you were at Costco, you aren't going to find out.    

Picture my face as the realization flows over me.  Not only was a wearing the stupid sticker on my stupid pants the whole stupid day, which is embarrassing on its own, but I was telling everyone what size my stupid fat pants are.  Why couldn't it have been a size 6?  Then all the people, who politely looked away without telling me, might have been thinking... wow! she has such a cute size 6 tush!  Or... why couldn't Old Navy have gotten their stickers wrong, just this once, and it could have showed a size 4.  Then at least, the people would have been more confused than appalled at my jeans size.

Horrible, terrible, rotten, smelly, puky, dreadful day.    Vile.    Awful.

P. S.    This is not the first time this has happened.     

Avant-Garde

Photo by Shelle

Last night I woke up crying because of a horrible dream.  One of my kids died.  I'm not going to go into details (it's not something I want to remember). I couldn't go back to sleep for quite a while, and as I laid there, I realized something.  All the kids were there, and they were all playing their roles.  The roles I have given them.  B.A. was over-emotional, and mostly concerned with herself.  Rhon was kind and dependable.  Dare was bouncy and disobedient.  Even though she looked at me while I told her the rules, she completely ignored them.  Mads was obstreperous and independent.  I realized that I have labeled my children.  In any given situation, I could tell you who would act what way.  Although I think it is good to know my children, I don't want to label them anymore, at least with the negative stuff.  There isn't really anything negative to say about Rhon.  See, there I go again.  She has the label of being the perfect child.  Not that that is bad, but I'm sure the other girls notice.  I've decided it is okay to notice behaviors that are common to their personality (B.A. is usually bossy), but I want to try not to assume she is that way all the time, and that it is something she can change, not just think oh that's the way she is.  

Dana and I were just talking yesterday about how we can appreciate our kids more.  I am aware now that my labels are not appreciative at all.  I feel terrible that I have suppressed them in a way.  I going to stop doing this right away.  Try at least.  It is my goal to see the behaviors separate from the child.  I love those little punks.  I hope they know it.

Random Pictures

So sweet.

I love how they are waiting in line.

Ahhhhh

Wrestling (?)

Gorilla faces. 

Love

I love:

(you should be able to "sense the sarcasm" because I'm "layin' it on pretty thick".*

1.  Cleaning Play-Doh out of tiny treads.  This was after the 30 minutes of fork and water cleaning.  

2.  Getting puked on by a 9 month old who should be over it.  Breast-milk was sweet on it's own, now he mixes in pasta, oatmeal, ice cream, graham crackers, etc.  

3.  Vacuuming.

4.  Over-dramatic children.  Boys included.

5.  Negotiations.  It's awesome when they don't take no for an answer.

Okay.  Things I really love.

1.  Adjustable waist pants.  

2.  Funky carrots from the garden.

3.  Letting the kids play with Play-Doh.

4.  Naps.

5.  Laughing with/at my kids regularly.

*Quotes taken from Tommy Boy.

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

Shelle from BlokThoughts gave me an award!  I know what you are thinking. I know, I know. She probably just ran out of people to award.  But I'm taking it.  It is more fun than I expected. So now I get to award 3 women I think rock.  Umm... (thinking)... I'll get back to you.

White Belt

     

Hey... I brought my camera this time!  If you can't tell, that is her hand in that blue glove.  She is really excited about knowing how to punch good.  She showed us punching the couch, and I think she could really do some damage to someone about her size.  The other picture is of her meditating.  I don't know if I could get into all the traditions, but she thinks it's fun.  She earned her white belt after this practice.

***          ***          ***

Rhon said the funniest thing today.  I was slicing up peaches because I was going to make a peach cobbler, and the bowl started getting pretty full.  Usually when I cut up peaches, I just let the kids eat them up.  Dare noticed how many there were, and said, "I don't think we can eat all of those."  Then Rhon said, "Together we are hungry, so together we can."  I thought it was freaking hilarious.  I laughed for a good 20 minutes after.  Even now I laugh out loud. 

Blue

          

My favorite jammies.

How can I not squeeze him?