Where the Wild Things Are

We had stake conference a couple weeks ago and I got an idea. An awful idea. I had a wonderful, awful idea. (there's a quote for you) Anyway, here was my idea. You know how sacrament meeting is with little ones. It's 75 minutes of shushing, pleading to whisper, breaking out every plastic toy, coloring book, lacing card you've got, and finally stuffing the little mouths with mini marshmallows in an effort to keep them quiet and placated all the while trying to gather the smallest amount of spiritual growth and knowledge from the speaker so your worship doesn't feel in vain and (more importantly) so when you see said speaker in the hall later you can thank him or her for a wonderful talk and say something competent. Well, we all know stake conference is ten times worse; and of course, all hope is completely lost if we end up sitting in the over flow area on the metal folding chairs. (Which we always do.) Might as well pack up and head home for all the good it will do us and the harm it will do whoever we sit by. The metal chairs combined with the wood gym floor make for a, uh, perfect storm, shall we say of childhood noise. Clanging toy cars on those metal seats reverberate to no end and no matter how hard the kiddies try those same cars are always sliding across the seat, swooshing up over the back lip on the chair and slamming into the completely non absorbent shellacked floor of the gym. Even if cars are put away and sedentary activities brought out there is something about the folding chairs that just lours the children in like bugs to those zappy blue lights. I don't know a kid who can sit still on a folding chair without poking fingers or feet into the crevices and slats. (Actually I bet those Eddington kids could.) I remember a particular sacrament meeting from my childhood in which my father carried my screaming brother out into the foyer while my mother carried the folding chair his head was stuck in. (That's my brother Phil. Things like that just happen to him.)

Anyway, back to stake conference. My idea was this. To offer ourselves even the slimmest possibility of making it through the two hour meeting we had to sit in a pew and preferably one of the side ones. I need the cushion seat to dampen noise, the hard back to offer a visual block, and the wall on the side to contain the kids so there is only one way out. Unfortunately, past experience has shown that you have to show up a minimum of an hour early to sit in the pew section and, well, that's just laughable around here. I don't know why people show up so early. Stay home. Have a nice breakfast. Come 10 minutes early, maybe 15. Please. To combat these people who enjoy sitting and listening to the choir practice and chatting with old friends in other wards my plan was to take all my church bags and scriptures with me to the Saturday evening adult meeting and then strategically place them on a desired pew to act as a placeholder and await my timely arrival the next morning about 10 minutes before the meeting started. It was genius! Why had I not thought of this before. A solution to my problem. It was good in so many ways. It saved me a needed pew, it took care of packing the bags so I wasn't rushing to do it Sunday morning, it forced us to be a little bit early since it would be far to embarrassing to walk in late to a pew other people had been wanting. I ran into one snag. The husband. He did not think this was such a good idea although every friend I questioned heartily agreed it was. He told me I couldn't do it. He told me even if I tried somebody would probably go through the chapel after the Saturday meeting, collect all the left bags, and drop them at the lost-and-found. With a bit of resentment in my heart (a great way to start a church meeting) I left the bags and went with him.

You can imagine the look on Chris' face when Brother Anderson gets up to give a few announcements and comments that in conferences past some people have thought it clever to leave bags, coats, scriptures to save a place for them so they don't have to come early the next morning. He let us all know that several people would indeed be going through the chapel after the meeting and collecting all left items to be deposited on top of the coat racks. Ahhh, foiled again. This was doubly hard, not only was my idea shot down while Chris' ego got a firm boost but apparently this was not such a brilliant, cutting-edge idea in the first place. Evidently enough people thought of this before me that the leadership has taken notice. Rats! So much for my idea. My terrible idea. My terrible, mundane, overused idea.

[I showed 'em in the end though. We did, in fact, show up an hour early to stake conference and DID get to sit in the pews! Although not a side one with a wall. That's got to be some kind of first! Yes, Dad, we were EARLY.]

I ran across some old pieces of scrap paper today I had used to jot down funny things Matthew had told me. Here is a small sampling along with a couple from this past week. Hope they give you a laugh.

April 13, 2007

• "I want to fly. Mom, can you get a real Tinkerbell and shake it on my head. She'll make fixing dust and put it on my head and then I can fly."
• "Mom, have you ever seen a crab nebula? When I was a boy my father would take me into outer space and as we flew by I saw a crab nebula."

Easter out at the ranch.

• As Matthew walked past me-- "Howdy little lady."

August 8, 2007

• As Chris pulled up in front of the Harley Davidson dealer-- "Welcome to the motorcycle shop, Mom. The greatest shop in the world!"
• After helping him to "wipe up" in the bathroom I said, "Good job Matthew." His reply, "It's my pleasure."

Recently

• On our way to school we stopped for two ambulances and a fire truck to go past with sirens roaring. From the back Matthew asked, "What is all this cacophony?" Um, he gets it from T.V. A little show called Pinkey Dinkey Doo. Good to know somebody is teaching him.
• As an Amish farmer ran past us at Saturday's market Matthew calls out, "Mom, look. There goes a pioneer!"
• Chris made peanut butter pancakes for dinner on Sunday. While I was out of the room Matthew got in a little trouble-- Matthew: "I dumped out a whole lot of syrup Mom." Me: "Yeah?" Matthew: "Yeah. But Dad already put me in the corner so you don't have too. But he already got me out. He didn't make me stay there a long time like you did when I peed in my unders. That was nice. And look, I licked it all up so you wouldn't know what I did. " Ooooh, thanks for telling me about your sneaky way of covering your tracks!

So after all my wishing and waiting to get my computer back it has already been four days since my last post. I had so many things to say. So, what has kept me away these past few days . . . well, first off it was Fear Factor. No, not the T.V. version, I might have a few issues but squandering time on a Fear Factory Tivo marathon when it could be used for blogging or other precious matters such as sleep is not one of them. This was the Wednesday Night Mutual version of Fear Factor. At let me say first off it was a fantastic activity (um, if I do say so myself.) The preparation took up all of Tuesday and Wednesday but we had some great challenges for the young men and young women. We had blindfold basketball tosses, we had 3-legged obstacle courses, we had disgusting food, and we even had bugs. Real bugs. Coated with powdered cheese but still very real bugs, crickets, and meal worms. It was really very disgusting but these kids ate them. Each activity was matched with a scripture or gospel principle and it just turned out well in spite of a few impudent teenagers but what would mutual night be without a little adolescent attitude. But, after putting my kids aside for two days while prepping for this and then dragging them along to mutual and then trying to run the activity while shuffling them to the nursery every five minutes I was ready to hit the sack as soon as I pulled in the driveway Wednesday night. There was the first part of the week. As for yesterday and today--I caught Stie's cold. I knew as soon as I read she was sick I should have vacated the offending blog and washed myself in a pool of purel but I didn't. I stuck around. I read her post. I looked at her photos. I even exchanged comments with her. I should have known this would happen. So now here I sit shivering in my clothes that a few hours ago were practically soaked with my sweat (sorry, that's a bit gross). And that's what I have been doing all week. The poor children have survived on waffles and instant oatmeal (thank you Mr. Quaker) and now Daddy's home and can take them to a decent breakfast tomorrow. I'm off to a hot shower and bed and will have happier things to tell soon hopefully.

Just thought I would give you a heads-up (although being omniscient you probably already know this) but Matthew thinks he has you all figured out. A couple nights ago we had spinach and mozzarella raviolis for dinner. As Matthew was eating his he casually asked me, "Mom, does Jesus put spinach in raviolis so you won't know you're eating it?" Um, yup, he's pretty smart that way. At least the little man went ahead and still ate them. Here are a couple more of his thoughts.

You know how just about every question at church can be answered with about 4 or 5 key words. Well, Matthew has discovered this. I've been trying to help him learn all the songs for the primary program that coming up so yesterday I started playing the first bit of a song and asked him to guess what it was (I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ.) His first answer was The Lord has blessed me? Close but no. Then he just started listing stuff. "Jesus Christ?" No. He clapped his hands and jumped up and down, "Pray, pray, pray!" Still no. "Missionaries!" Sunday school's going to be a piece of cake for this kid.

Lastly, tonight for family home evening we read the story about Christ coming to visit the Nephites and asking all the little children to come to Him and blessing them. Matthew loved it and couldn't get over the pictures of Christ holding all the little children. He told me "I want Him to come to me Mom. I haven't seen Him in a long long long time." I told Matthew some day he will see Him and Jesus will tell him what a good boy he has been. Matthew said, "Yeah, but sometimes I'm bad." I told him we can always be better. His response: "I'll tell him I peed in my unders." Well, not such a bad idea, it just may take intervention of a higher power to conquer this peeing in the unders.

Ha Ha I'm back! AND . . . it turns out the able bodied crew at the geek squad is not so able bodied and much more geek. Their diagnosis of our computer was essentially, "Uh, we think there might be something wrong with your hard drive." Um, seriously? Did you read that off the sheet we filled out about what we think might be wrong with it when we dropped it off? After not being of any help and taking lots of our money, Chris himself has apparently fixed the computer. At least for now. He says it is still liable to crash but all the important stuff (read: my babies photographic history of their entire lives) is safe and has been backed up several times. So, hurrah for the hubby. I guess all those hard years at MIT have payed off! I have my own personal geek squad. Except not so geeky of course. (side note: I used to always see signs for the MIT theatre club when I was walking around campus and found it amusing. I guess I shouldn't assume they all fit the pale, scrawny, sallow looking student with poor p.r. skills stereotype. Chris is anything but pale, scrawny, and sallow looking. And his p.r. skills aren't bad either.) He fixed the all important life line to the outside and deserves some praise. The hardest part about not having Internet for the past week (other than missing you, dear internets), what ever will the weather be like? Ahhh, what will I dress the children in today? Pants, shirts, and sweater's? Or maybe it will turn out to be a shorts and T-shirt day? Oh the choices. And, really, you never know with our bipolar weather here. One day will be a warm 77 degrees and the next 54. Really, we have had over a 30 degree drop from one day to the next this past week. I have to keep switching the air conditioning off and the heater on only to find myself roasting in the house two days later and turning the thermostat back to cool. I suppose I could check the T.V. for the weather but between the hours of 7:00a.m. and 8:00 p.m. it is fixed on either noggin or sprout and a curse on whoever changes that remote! After 8:00 my own personal viewing time is much too important to waste with flipping channels to check the weather. So thank you, weather.com, for the instant gratification of solving my daily clothing questions immediately whenever I decide to ask. Anyway, there is much to catch up on so a little preview of what will be coming over the next week or so . . .

• the primary talent show (a shameless marketing of my children but very cute)
• face painting--we shall see who ends up with the short end of the stick
• Matthew's got all those standard church answers down
• my thoughts on General Petraeus vs. The Never Ending Story
• and many other fully unimportant happenings in my life

Stay Tuned . . .

They found me, or my computer anyway. Though the lingo has changed I fear the ol' computer is about to suffer the same fate as our dear Billy Bones after being served with "The Blue Screen of Death." I did not know this term existed but apparently is does and more apparently my computer got it. This is why I have been away for awhile and am now typing in the kitchen of my friend Tara instead of Chris' office. The computer has been handed over to the able bodied crew of the Geek Squad and they are trying to recover what they can before the whole thing makes a trip to visit Davey Jones. Depending on the outcome of this endeavor I might be making a widespread casting call for any photos of my children any of you might have since that computer kept in its' hidden depths every image of the kiddo's from the past 4 1/2 years. Anyway, don't give up on me, I'll be back eventually. Other than that the only thing that can be said in this situation is, "Well, that's done." And there is your new quote.

I walked briskly down the airport corridors, head up, confidence in my eyes, a woman obviously focused on a destination, undistracted and with a goal in mind. One carry-on bag slung over my shoulder and a stylish hand bag under my arm. Dressed in something other than jeans and a T-shirt, hair actually washed and styled, and making use of all the extra wonderful pieces of jewelry I have other than just a simple silver wedding band. I boarded the plane unrushed, took my time walking to the door when my row was called, easily stowed by bag and calmly sat sipping my water and reading my magazine. Then I started my people watching and as I observed I wondered . . .were they watching me, and more importantly . . . can they tell? Can I pull off this look of the confident career woman or the unhampered, newly married, jet setter? Do I look like I do this all the time, flying back and forth, sitting in airports, traveling the world, or is it obvious--obvious that I am not really a one carry-on bag woman. Do they know that if they could look in my stylish handbag they would actually find some fruit snacks and a spare diaper? Can they tell when I pulled out my phone to turn it off that I am actually not best friends with this device and was secretly praying I wouldn't set off some alarm in trying to disarm it? Do they assume I just picked up my clothes from the cleaners or can they see the small stain of tossed breakfast oatmeal on my shoulder? Can they tell? Can they tell it is all just a facade. That really I have three small boys at home, that every other time I'm in the airport I'm carrying one, chasing another, and dragging bags behind me. Do they know I never sit in my own seat calmly reading a magazine about completely unimportant celebrity news? Well, whether I was an obvious counterfeit or not, I enjoyed my pretend time on the plane but the best part of this New York trip . . . not having to pretend with old friends. Try as we might to be hip mama's out for a good weekend on the town, what did we talk about: our children--ha ha--what are they doing, who is dating who, recipes that everyone will eat, how are the hubbies surviving at home, the politics of neighborhood friendships, the pain of buying new wardrobes every 6 months for growing children, who is sleeping through the night, and most importantly, how to raise healthy, responsible, confident, caring kids. With children ranging from 21 years to 1 amongst us we had a good group of experiences to draw from! Along with the chatting we couldn't have had a more perfect time. Here's what I learned:

• A weekend with old friends is always a blessing
• While walking the streets of NYC, within the space of one step my nose can go from being delicately enticed by the smell of roasting marshmallow to being completely smothered by the overpowering odor of urine
• I'm not sure I will enjoy roasted mallows again for quite a long time
• The Drowsy Chaperon is a FANTASTIC musical and if you are lucky enough to blindly pick it out of a group to go see, count yourself supremely blessed
• Using your one weekend without babies to stay up until 2:30 chatting with buddies instead of catching up on some much needed sleep is completely worth it
• A day of musicals, live and televised, watched from chairs and comfy hotel beds, is luxury indeed
• If your cell phone happens to run out of batteries and you find yourself without a charger, DO NOT pay the $80.00 every vendor in Times Square wants to charge you for a new one (actually it was $79.95)
• Every hotel is loaded with spare phone chargers that people have forgotten. Just ask the concierge and they will find one that fits your phone and charge it for you for a very small fee
• If your hotel doesn't have the right charger, (like my hotel) check the Marriott Marquee, they have two huge buckets full!
• The Marriott also has a business area where you can check in for your flight and print your boarding pass for free--this is great to know and it apparently doesn't matter if you are actually a guest there or not
• With friends like these a few years apart doesn't make a bit of difference
• Hubbies who take on a solo weekend with the boys deserve much praise but making it look too easy might quickly earn you another such weekend :)
• A delicious Sunday Brunch at a rotating restaurant is the perfect end to the perfect weekend
• Thanks Christie, Annie, Sue, Alyson, and Gabi. Can't wait to see you again!

I started this post a while ago and now when I published it the site put it in chronological order so I now have a new post several weeks ago. Hope that made sense but you can see it here. I have had more trouble setting this one up but I don't have time to work on it any more. I have bags to pack and sleeping to do. Oh well. haha! thanks for all your comments. I fixed it and it is now found right below!

MY "GOING SOMEWHERE WITHOUT THE CHILDREN" BAG

obviously there isn't much in it

my birthday present from Chris that he brought back from a trip to England

some pens, a receipt from the salon (about the only place I go without the kids)some lip gloss

"GIRLS' NIGHT OUT" BAG

valentines gift from Chris, perfect little size HOLY COW, MONEY?! I love it when I find that! some movie tickets and Cheesecake Factory receipt (from after the show :) a friends cell number, more movie tickets, and some earrings

OLD FAITHFUL

this bag goes everywhere every day and she's nice enough to cling to my back by herself so my arms are free for more important things like keeping boys from running free in parking lots

black wallet from Franklin Planner dayswipes, diaps, and bibsreceipts from grocery and J.Crew (if only I could afford to really shop there . . .)coupon for Italian ice and a measuring tape some gum, floss, Listerine pocket pak, mint a band aid, some Tylenol, and raisins a Pez dispenser, plastic animals, a car, some crayons (left over from restaurants--they just throw them away after all) some bonus cards from the grocery and plant store a pen, a baby spoon (these are showing up everywhere) a paperclip, and 11 cents!

Last week we ventured out with the neighborhood for a favorite fall activity . . . Apple Picking! Unfortunately, as I check out other blogs I find most people have already done this and perhaps this post is just another redundant child's activity for some of you but, for the sake of grandparents, I press on. We found a perfect farm not too far away that has not only apples, but also a kiddie play place complete with hay bale mazes (an open and closed dark one), pumpkins, piggies, and some miniature donkeys. This is wonderful since the children are rather unscrupulous about which apples they pick and their bags fill up within a matter of minutes leaving us with the choice of either going home almost as soon as we get there or spending my monthly allotment of grocery money on the 87 bags they will fill up if I let them pick any longer. Even though their picking went by in a flash they had a great time running under the branches, down the rows of trees, and taking small bites out of every apple they picked. William was very protective of his personal bag of apples and insisted on carrying it himself all the way back to the car. When he was sitting down resting I asked him to show me an apple so I could get a picture but he showed me the sign for apple, that's what he is doing in the photo. He likes watching a Signing Time video we borrowed from a friend and the other day whacked Matthew on the back and told me, "Mom, that's the sign for 'hit'." Yup, I guess that would be it buddy. All in all it was a great day for kids and especially for me. Why for me you ask? Well, here are my top ten reasons . . .

1. I got to play outside with my kiddies
2. I now have lots of delicious apples for apple crisp
3. I left the farm with some very worn out children
4. Nobody was caught running naked through the woods
5. Nobody peed on anybody else (although Matthew did pee on a tree while I ran interference)
6. Nobody got lost (for more than a few minutes anyway)
7. Nobody left the activity sans underwear
8. There was no vomit incident
9. Everyone left with the same number of digits they came with
10. Nobody held out a smelly hand to me commenting there was a chance his underwear might contain something extra besides a skinny bum.

Perfect. And now off to make some of that apple crisp! (Thank you Ina Garten)

As you might have guessed from the title today is my mother's birthday. She is a spectacular woman of whom I have yet to meet an equal. (Hope that was a correct sentence. Although, one of Mom's few shortcomings is her grammar and spelling-which I inherited-so if it is, she will never know!) She taught me all the important things in life, besides grammar and spelling (Mrs. Smiley took on that doomed task). She taught me how to make brownies, how to clean a toilet, how to fold a shirt, and how to plant a garden. She taught me how to fold in the corners of my bed sheets, how to french braid my own hair, and how to cook a roast (at least she tried). She taught me how to go adventuring, how to have pillow fights with your kids, how to be confident, and how to let other people win. She taught me to love reading, to love history, to love learning, and to love any stray animal that comes your way.

I was just reading to my boys the story of Helaman and his young warriors. I'm sure you know the story. They had been taught by their mothers to have faith and not doubt. As they recount the words of their mothers to Helaman they tell him "We do not doubt our mothers knew it." Everything my mother taught me, from the silly to the eternal, from the outward service to others to her quite devotion to family and faith, I do not doubt she knew it. And although my brownies are dry and my roast is burned, the service cuts short and I'm not much of a scriptorian, don't worry Mom--the lessons were learned and just like you taught me, I'm pressing on. I love you. Happy Birthday!