Add-On To Previous...

So I was talking to my sister-in-law Abby the other night and she was expressing her disappointment that I left out what she thought was the best part of this story. I realize that I told two stories in that post, so I am specifically referring to the one involving duct. tape. Just for Abby I will tell the rest of the sordid tale....

So later after we got ourselves together, survived the Murray Family Christmas Gathering, tree shopping, and a 2-year old's birthday party, we were finally home relaxing with Jack's brother, Abby and their two boys, Chase-8 and Cole-5. The kids were all playing well except for....... *drum roll please*....... wait for it............. you'll never guess!!!! DOODLES!!! Never saw that coming eh? Anyhoo, I'm not really sure what was going on but she was being a pest and Jack was in the midst of something, I don't know what, but he was on a mission. All we hear is Doodles being loud and obnoxious and Jack calling from the upstairs for... duct. tape. I guess the reason that this would be hilarious is because we were all pretty convinced that his mission may have been to use it on Doodles. I joked nervously like, "Yeah, yeah, you could be right. He's probably taping her to the wall as we speak!" The kids giggled in a hushed sort of way, but kept looking around at each other like they were waiting to see if it was really a joke because well, really we all know that she has a way of pushing you just past that line in the sand. The one that divides the Land of the Sane and the opposite, The Land Where Amber Resides. Needless to say, he avoided the temptation, but the wondering if she would be coming back down with him or not was way too much fun!

Doodles

One would never know it based solely on this picture, that this child could be the most devilish of my brood. The problem is that she is so darn cute! It's those eyes, and the "I love you too, Mom!" as she runs up the stairs to piss off her sisters that keeps her alive. I don't even have to say "I love you" to get that response. That's what is so dang adorable about it! She adds the "too" whether I say it first or not. At least her cuteness may save her from mine and Jack's wrath, but Mel and Syd may be a different story. I'm pretty sure it's a matter of time before she gets shanked. They have been giving her everything she wants since she was born just to shut her up, but I sense years of bitterness boiling close to the edge, and I fear for that wee devil! What is it they say about reaping what you sow?

Me: cleaning and putzing in kitchen...

Doodles: Kyle is a Douche Bag.

Me: heading upstairs to beat hell out of Jack

You May Want To Play Poker With Jack....

If you want to be a winner at any real power play games, i.e. poker, you may want Jack as your opponent. He has a gift for just showing his hand with little to no coersion. I've always known that he wasn't a master manipulator which is something that I truly appreciate, but I am so much more appreciative that he just blows out the punchline without me even asking!

For example, tonight I'm cuddled under the covers looking at him complaining how cold and bone tired I am and that the kitchen was a total disaster. And here's the punchline.... "Well you know if you leave it long enough that I'll just do it myself." I had no response other than my wide eyed look of shock. Plus I was too busy listening to the angels singing a joyous ditty in my head. Just when I think my day was total $hit, my husband hands me a gem of an epiphany. Full house baby!

The Things Wee People Say...

People judge you every day. They judge you by your appearance, the car you drive, where you live, and I hope, against all hope that they don't judge me by the things that come out of the mouths of my children. Sometimes the things they say make me raise my eyebrows and my mouth to form a perfectly surprised "O".

Please don't judge me for the tales I'm about to share. I only share them because I know (hope) that someday my children will read this and know what they did to me. I don't feel that they will truly appreciate it though until they have children of their own to give them the same kind of love (aggravation) that I have experienced.

I am forever lecturing Jack about the things he says to/around the children. They are impressionable you know? One of his favorite names to call people on his list of "Individuals Too Stupid To Live", (which is most everyone in his opinion) is Douche Bag. Just the word on its own probably leads you to imagine any number of situations, but the real story is more inappropriate/hilarious/embarrassing than I would have ever imagined!

The Setting: Jack, I, and the girls were at a local Blockbuster looking along the new release wall with my brother and his wife. The girls were frolicking around and there were a few other people milling about.

Me: Where the heck did Sydney wander off to?

Jack: I don't know... Mel! Go find your sister!

Sydney: I'm back here Douche Bag!!!!

Group: Stunned silence followed by muffled snickers from loitering strangers.

She did not say it in a conversational tone, no, she. yelled. it. It was one of those situations where I didn't address the child with my wrath, but immediately turned my flame throwing gaze to my dear husband saying, "You did this!"

The other day we were hustling to get ready for Jack's family Christmas event and I was trying to do Melanie's hair to the tune of Doodles screaming at the top of her lungs over anything and everything that went wrong with her world. Randomly, Mel walked away while I reached for something. Totally annoyed I yell for her to get her a$$ back in there so we could get going! I get no response, so I yell for her again! Ready to go on a killing spree, I turn around and she comes back all nonchalant without an explanation like she hadn't been screwing around while I waited for her with a flatiron. As I grab a piece of her hair and get back to work, I look over and Doodles is standing there with tears welled up in her eyes and a large piece of duct tape across her mouth. Yes, duct tape. Mel says nothing and stands there ignoring the situation like no big.

Me: Uh, Mel, ummm.... Do you really think that taping her mouth shut was the best idea?

Mel: Oh she's fine. It's just duct tape.

Doodles promptly ran downstairs to Jack who coddled her and acted appropriately ashamed of the situation. Had I done something that fun and diabolical to my brother as a kid, I would have been snorting and stifling giggles behind my hand, but my child just sits there bland like "what?" I don't know if I shoulda hi-fived her or fretted about her moral compass. I lean toward the hi-five, but then I don't know if my moral compass points due north either because if I'm being honest with myself, deep down, I wish that I had the courage to tape her mouth shut more often!

Halloween 2008

No, you have not stepped into a time warp, and no I am not delusional (sorta not) and think it's the year 2008. I am fully aware that it is now 2009 and that I am just now finally getting last years Halloween pictures up. I think I need to join Slackers Anonymous.

Anyhoo... Last year we were still in good ol' Sierra Vista AZ where they actually allow the schools to have Halloween parties! Yes! Seriously! This year they had a Harvest Party which we all know is not nearly as cool as a Halloween party because we are without what??? Yep! Halloween costumes! How much funner is that?! So last year I got to get the kids ready for Halloween bright and early in the morning in time for school.

Thanks to the Auntie Lois, Sydney was rockin' a Rainbow Brite costume that made me smile at all the childhood memories that one brought back! (I'm mailing that back. Seriously. See above commitment to Slackers Anonymous. Sorry.) She looked FABULOUS! I sprayed her hair orange and she was ready to go!

Now Melanie for the entire year had said that she wanted to be a bat. Seemed easy enough, but all we could find in the stores were capes and such which was not gonna cut it. Her opinion, not mine. So I googled for ideas and ended up staying up until 4:30 the night before (slacker...) sewing umbrella halves under the arms of a black turtleneck. It seemed like it would be a quick whip-stitch project but as usual, it was waaay more annoying than that. Melanie insisted that she had to be all black, just like a bat. Ok, so I didn't want to deal with spraying her hair black, so I just put the bat ears through a black stocking cap and painted her face black. And we had a bat. Sort of.

A week or so ago I was sitting in a parent teacher conference discussing Melanie's creative writing journal when I looked at what Mel had selected for the teacher to go over since it was her favorite entry. It was the entry about last Halloween and how she had dressed up as a bat burglar. I was smothering giggles until I finally couldn't control it anymore and had to explain the story of what we had actually intended as opposed to the result. Until I read that darling little journal I had never really thought about the conflicting messages that her costume had sent. Leave it to Mel to figure it out and just throw it in a journal. Bat burglar.... So check this!

See what I mean? Awesome, really. I bet she was the only bat burglar in existence that year. Because we're cool like that.

And Doodles, well Doodles insisted on being a kitty cat. She made me take pictures of her in the morning looking like her own cute self. (the natural devil costume)

Here she is in all her kitty cat glory, positively glowing at the opportunity to go an collect her weight in candy! Nothing makes that girl happier!

So this means that maybe next year I'll have this years stuff! hahaha! Just kidding! (maybe)

And School Begins! Like a Month Ago...

It's only a month into the school year so it seems that when compared to the fact that I haven't even posted last Halloween, nearly a year past now, that I'm dang near on time! Yesssss!

So the first day of school was the usual chaos with my sleep deprived children being drug out of bed by their equally sleep deprived mother after a gluttonous summer of letting her children look like orphans. Out came the soap, shampoo, (I know, right?) the flat iron, the rubber bands, and the shiny new school clothes. It took some time but we pulled it off on time for me to accompany them to their first day of school. I'm pretty sure that I managed with only a handful of swear words. I'm so fricking good.

So after spending a ridiculous amount of time making sure that my kids looked put together, I stood in my daughter's classroom with despair in my heart and likely a look of horror on my face while I watched the good moms take pictures of their smiling children sitting in their little desks. And standing there unloading their school supplies. And with the teacher. AND I FORGOT THE DAMN CAMERA!!!! Who does that? What good mom forgets the camera on the first day of school???? They don't!!! That would mean that I am not a good mom! Crap! I spent the whole day at work fretting about my lapse and cursing at myself under my breath.

But I found a solution... Oh yes, my crafty self was not going to let this be a total loss! I drove home like a bat outta hell and before even asking how the oh-so-important first day of school went, boot camp style started shouting orders- "Get up off the couch and get your shoes back on! Your blisters will be fine! Hurry up! Grab those backpacks and get over here so I can straighten your hair! Yeah, yeah, glad you had fun- No! Get your shoes on and go stand together!" All of this to make up for my inadequacies as a mother. I'm sure the therapist will help them work it out eventually.

So here's Mel forgetting that we are not posing for our senior pictures, and that she's only nine.

And this is them posing with their gang/peace signs, and no, Sydney does not have epilepsy.

Here they are again with Syd flipping her gang/peace signs, and yes, Melanie does have an attitude.

And this, this is Doodles flipping straight up gang signs cuz she be da bomb. Das right.

So the next day....

The next day I decided to further torture my children in order to make up for my eff-up the previous morning by lugging the camera to the bus stop. The children may have been a bit annoyed with me. Especially Mel...

And the other parents and children were a little bit miffed that I was holding up the line so that I could pose the children by the school bus.

Only those of you that have known me from my school days can truly appreciate pictures of my children getting on the bus with the other children. And by this I mean that the novelty is that my children are not gasping for breath, holding their sides after running for their lives to catch the bus. That may have been my experience. I've heard about it but I think it may be one of those repressed memories from my childhood. Like when I got a referral and removed from the bus after I (Rochelle) called the bus driver a b!tch. That same b!tch we got to sit behind during Sacrament meeting on Sunday. I wish I had repressed that one a little more. I don't know if I ever thanked you for that one Rochelle. And I know I never thanked Heather for tapping on my window every dang day so that we could walk to the bus together only to have to come in and help me throw myself together because the tap had become my alarm clock. Oop's.

So here they are looking a little relieved that they were on their way far, far away from my embarrassing antics.

Aren't they precious?

Don't Forget To Remember...

I've been sitting here thinking all evening about how strange it is that I have had such a normal everyday, day. It's a bit surreal if I let my mind drift back to today, eight years ago. When I was young my family would reminisce about what they were doing when Kennedy was assassinated, or when Elvis died, Peal Harbor, or any of those monumental moments in our history. When I turned on the television that early morning and watched the second plane slam into the tower, I was transfixed with horror. As I sank my sick, pregnant body into the recliner in front of the television, I knew with perfect clarity that this moment would stay with me forever.

In the days, weeks, and months following the most brutal attacks on U.S. soil, it seemed as if we were inundated with images from that day. Images of horrified American citizens running for their lives with looks of not just terror, but confusion on their faces. They, and all of us watching were wondering "why"? We no longer wonder because we understand the who now, but I am still wondering why, why we are able to so quickly fall away from the lessons of that day. That day we learned about terror, but we also learned about unity and rediscovered humanity. I felt that suddenly we were able to connect with one another on a level far deeper than at any other time in my life. Suddenly we as Americans could reach across all divides and feel the same pain. We were sharing the same fears for our future and celebrating the same guilty gratitude that it wasn't us on that television screen covered in dust and blood wondering what just happened, grateful that we could hug our loved ones. I wonder today, having not seen one of those images that was burned into my brain from repeated exposure, if we have broken that promise of not forgetting? Have we settled back into our mundane existences, forgetting that we are still fighting the war that began on that day? I think that maybe we have. I did hear a comment or two on the radio today but it seemed like not enough. Of course how can we quantify what would be enough?

I saw a petition of sorts on my husband's facebook page asking if he thought if 9/11 should be a national holiday. He answered "yes" and I was almost offended that we had to ask this. Isn't it already? How could we not consider a day when the world stopped to watch thousands be murdered a "national holiday"? Do we have to make it official and plug it in on the calendar to make it any more valid or to keep us from forgetting? It is/was far more important than that.

I just want to take a moment to publicly (to the two of you readers) state that I am so grateful for our troops that still fight the war that began on this day eight years ago, with honor and at great sacrifice to themselves and their families. I am grateful for my country and the freedom that it stands for around the world. I am grateful for this day that I have the freedom to write this, and publish it while my husband and baby sleep beside me in safety because of those that have sacrificed for us and will continue to do so as long as there is a need.

And as for me, I will always remember...