How a Boy Thinks

Yesterday evening, I had to take Adana to her indoor soccer practice. Jared & Torah came with us. We arrived a couple minutes late, and Torah had fallen sound asleep during the drive. So I jumped out with Adana and asked Jared to park the car near the entrance so we could check on Torah while she napped. It was a pretty cold evening, so as I was rushing out, I reminded Jared to please "Cover Torah up." He parked the car, then came in to watch Adana's practice.

When I went back out to check on Torah a few minutes later, this is what I found:

He thought I didn't want anyone to see that we had left a baby sleeping in the car. :)

Raising Adana

This evening, Adana asked if she could walk her friend, Kaia, home. She just lives at the end of our cul-de-sac. I said yes. "BUT," I vehemently told her, "you may NOT stay and play. You have to come straight home."

Fifteen minutes later, I sent Nathan to fetch his obviously wayward daughter. Here's their conversation on the walk home (she was found playing in front of Kaia's house):

Nathan: Adana, why were you still playing at Kaia's house? Your mom told you to come straight home.

Adana: I didn't hear her say that.

Nathan: Yes you did! I was standing right there when she told you that you could walk Kaia home but that you couldn't stay to play.

Adana (with her typical "innocent" logic): Well, I turned my head so I wouldn't hear the last part.

Happy ______________ Day!

Happy Thomas Crapper Day!

Happy Punch the Clock Day!!**

And Happy Chocolate Cake Day!!!

I just happened to read this morning that today is National Chocolate Cake Day. So I quickly baked up a cake, texted some friends, and Voila! We had an impromptu surprise party at Mariann's house. (I texted her that I was dropping something by at noon, so not to go anywhere. Hee Hee.)

**Up until the moment when I googled "Punch the Clock Day" to find a link, it hadn't even crossed my mind that it was in reference to time cards. Geesh. Can you say Stay-At-Home-Mom?!?

If Adana's your big sister . . .

. . . you better enjoy wearing dazzling outfits!

Why Do I Run?

Sometimes it's really hard. I don't feel like running. The weather sucks. It's cold. I don't have time. My house is a mess. Who will watch Torah? The kids need me to take them places. They need help with homework. They're fighting; I can't leave them alone or they'll kill each other. Our island is so hilly. And muddy. And there aren't many sidewalks. I'm just being selfish. There are better things I could be doing. More important things. Like cleaning. Or cooking. Or checking out Pinterest. Or reading to the little'uns. Running is selfish.

It's selfish. So why do it?

This is my negative self-talk. But then I remember . . .

I run because even though Jared is now taller than me, he knows that he can not - will never be able to - run further than me. That's a good thing for a teenage boy to know. His mom sorta rocks.

I run because Micah just keeps getting cuter and cuter each year. And I am not going to miss seeing how stinkin' cute he's gonna be as a 70-year old man.

I run because Emma is so dang smart it's scary. But on the days I run, my mind feels more alert and I think maybe, just maybe, I can keep up with her for a little while longer.

I run because I know that Adana is going to have some great adventures in her life, and I want to be right there with her, sharing in the fun.

And I run because it wasn't Torah's fault to be born to "older" parents. And I never want her to feel like she was a mistake, or that we weren't able to give her the same energy & attention that we gave the older kids. And I want to know and play with her kids, and hopefully even their kids, someday.

That's why I run. Not to lose weight (although I won't be complaining if it happens). Not to qualify for Boston (Pshaw! As if. I'm slooooow). Not to get out of doing housework (well, that's not the only reason, at least).

I run because it keeps me healthy. For my kids.

Jared's Memoir

Jared's final assignment for English this semester was to write a memoir. Specifically, he was supposed to describe an experience that he's had in which he felt some sort of strong emotion. Luckily for him, the strong emotion he felt in this case was GUILT. He may have also felt the strong sting of my hand smacking him upside his head.

Memoir

The beautiful, but torrid sun was spread across the plain. Nothing could escape its fiery eye, for it could see everything. It was an unquenchable bonfire, its radiant beams scorching my skin. All I could do to keep from heat exhaustion was to stay inside and drown my body with water. It was the only way to fight the fire. This was supposed to be a fun family vacation but it was turning into an ordeal to just sit and try and save ourselves from melting under the intense heat. My mother’s naggings to go out and play were ignored. The sun had consumed all of our energy from swimming in my grandparent’s pool. Unfortunately, since we had no energy left, we were too tired to argue with my mom and consented to her cruel bidding.

“Come on guys, hurry up!” my little sister yelled to us. She was energized and hyper as if she had just downed three Red Bulls into her little 5 year-old body. She had energy to spare and was growing impatient with our slow and staggered movements. We decided to walk to a nearby park. It was only about a ten minute walk from my grandparent’s house and my mom would not be able to complain of our laziness if we played at a park for a bit. As we walked, the fire immediately began to make me feel as if I just stepped into an oven. It probably didn’t help that I was wearing black shorts and a black t-shirt. When we arrived at the park I spotted a gazebo just outside the woodchips where the play structure was. I told my siblings I was going to go sit under it while they played. My little brother followed me, then my 8 year-old sister, but my youngest sister was already bolting towards the playground. The shade the gazebo provided felt amazing, but now I had another problem to deal with: boredom.

As I sat there a twisted idea came to mind, but it sounded entertaining. I hollered to my sister, “Hey Adana! Go down the slide. I want to see how fast you can go.” I swear I saw the sun grin at me. It was encouraging the cruel suggestion I made to my sister. I knew that sliding down that plastic, swirly slide was probably as stupid as keeping your hand on a stove top. I was surprised it hadn’t melted yet. But, my sister was excited to slide for me. She loved to please others. She clambered up a short rock wall in her cute polka-dot dress and stood on the platform before the slide and waved to me. I waved back. Then she swung herself down the slide. I have never heard a more blood curdling scream. Halfway down the slide she threw herself over the edge. She landed face first on to the crispy woodchips. Her screams were evolving into an intense cry now. She was cradling her leg when I got to her. As I looked closer, I saw that all the way from her ankle to her upper thigh was bright red, scalded. I realized I had to get her home to put ointment or whatever the stuff is on her burn. I picked her up and put her on my back. I kept hoisting her up my back, trying to avoid touching the tender skin on her legs but also keep from dropping her. As I walked up the street with her on my back, I noticed my other two siblings were gone. They probably ran ahead to tattle-tell on me. Then that got me thinking about what I was going to tell my mom. Would I say, “Hey mom, I just tricked you daughter into sliding down a fiery slide of doom to watch her cry”?

We finally reached home and my mom said nothing. She just took my sister into the kitchen and I thought it would be better if I just sat outside, contemplating my tyrannical and selfish action. As I sat on that searing, hot patio I thought of the scar the horrible burn would form. I thought about how that scar would forever remind me of the day I was friends with the fire in order to betray my little sister’s love for me.

Big Snow Storm of Jan. 2012

If you've watched the news at all today, then you've probably heard that Seattle is in the middle of a HUGE winter storm. You've seen pictures of cars creeping along snow-packed roads and our local weathermen bundled up in their winter parkas.

I just wanted to let you know that we are weathering the storm as well as we can.

Nathan went to Costco yesterday to stock us up on food.

The school district emailed a few hours ago to cancel ALL after school & evening activities. This means Jared will miss two soccer practices, Micah will miss soccer practice, and Emma will miss basketball. More together time after a looooong weekend. Hooray.

I took these pictures a few minutes ago, around 2:30pm. Golly, it sure is a good thing the school district cancelled those afternoon activities!

We wouldn't want anyone to trip because they were blinded by the sunlight.

Haircut Before & After

Emma before:

Emma after: layers & side bangs. She's growing into such a pretty young lady.

Adana before:

Adana after: this is my favorite hairstyle on her, especially since it means I don't have to fight her about brushing & pulling it back every day. She even cut off enough to donate to Locks of Love.

Happy MLK Day!

Or, as Jared calls it, Happy Milk Day! He seriously thought until just a few years ago that this was a holiday to celebrate dairy products. Yup, him's a home schooled boy. :)

One of my resolutions this year is to actually celebrate the holidays rather than just endure them like I usually do. I am not a holiday-celebrating sorta person. I despise the added clutter around my house that holiday decorations bring. And the tight wad in me hates spending extra money on unnecessary treats, gifts, blah blah blah. Bah Humbug!

But a few of my friends are HUGE (neurotic, obsessive, freakish) holiday celebrators, and I sort of envy the fun that they have. So I thought I'd give it a try for one year.

January doesn't really have any fun holidays, but I didn't want to let my resolve waiver, so Micah helped me celebrate MLK, Jr. Day. He made chocolate waffles in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Those were some yummy waffles! Plus we had Milk to drink. :) And I didn't even have to go buy any special ingredients. Maybe I can pull this resolution off after all . . .

The Case of the Missing Choco Rocks

Exhibit A: Choco Rocks . . . One FULL tube, last seen in Jared's nightstand.


Exhibit B: A mysteriously empty tube of Choco Rocks, discovered in the clutches of an innocent-looking toddler.


Exhibit C: I rest my case.

Remember when a tool meant a hammer?

Tonight for YM/YW (weekly activities for all the teenagers at church), the plan was to go roller skating in Bremerton. Jared, Micah & their friend, Noah, decided to go "in character." They were laughing so hard while they were getting ready. They said they were dressing like "Tools." Huh??

Thank goodness for the Urban Dictionary. Here's what I think they were going for:

A person, typically male, who says or does things that cause you to give them a 'what-are-you-even-doing-here' look. The 'what-are-you-even-doing-here' look is classified by a glare in the tool's direction and is usually accompanied by muttering of how big of a tool they are. The tool is usually someone who is unwelcome but no one has the balls to tell them to get lost. The tool is always making comments that are out-of-place, out-of-line or just plain stupid. The tool is always trying too hard to fit in, and because of this, never will. However, the tool is useful because you can use them for things; money, rides, etc.

I think I dented their egos when I mentioned that they looked pretty much like how they usually dress. Dumb mom. Clearly I don't know the finer points of teenage fashion. Or teenage dissing on fashion. I'm still stuck in the good 'ol days when we dressed up like Dweebs or Goobers, back when a Geek wasn't a rich Wall Street tycoon and a Tool was, well, something used in construction.

Life with teenagers is so complicated.

Pet Peeves

It seems like I've been encountering a lot of little annoyances recently that are just bugging the heck outta me. They all seem like perfectly rational pet peeves to me, but I'm sort of curious to see if they are things that perturb anyone else.

Pet Peeve #1: We showed up late for church a few Sundays ago. And by late I mean only 15 minutes early rather than my usual half hour - sometimes a full hour - early, in order to get a decent seat that isn't either in the back of the gym or in the front mini-pews. But that's actually not my pet peeve. I sort of like leaving Nathan home to deal with getting the kids ready for church while I go early, secure us a nice pew, and enjoy a brief, peaceful Sunday moment.

The pet peeve occured when I found myself sitting a couple rows behind a family that I don't normally sit behind. As the meeting commenced, I noticed the wife reach her arm across the back of the pew to gently stroke her husband's head. Ahhhh, how sweet. But as the meeting progressed, the stroking continued and intensified! I was totally distracted from listening to anything the speaker had to say as I watched the head stroking/shoulder massaging/neck rubbing going on for a full hour. I'm ok with some general PDA, but in church - Not!

Pet peeve #2: My kids were invited to a whole slew of birthday parties this past month. Now, I'm not complaining about people having birthdays or even birthday parties in December. I mean, I myself screwed up had a baby born in December, and chances are she'll have a birthday party or two. Someday. When I mature enough to be able to handle anything beyond the basics required for a rudimentary Christmas celebration.

The pet peeve didn't even manifest itself when I would rush my kids out to the crammed stores, dip into our already tight December budget to buy just the right gift for their special friend, and then carve the time out of our jam-packed schedule to get them to/from the party. No, my pet peeve happened after the party, when I asked my kids how their friend liked the present and they would respond, "I don't know. He/she didn't open it. He/she is going to just open all the presents at home." WTH!? WHY would you deny my child the delight of watching a friend open the gift that was so carefully chosen? And WHY would you deny your child the chance of developing the manners and social skills involved in politely & thankfully receiving a gift. To my mind, the opening of and thanking for gifts should be one the central parts of the party.

Pet Peeve #3: I really hate it when I go to wash my wind shield at the gas station and there isn't any cleaner in the washing bucket and/or any paper towels in the dispenser. Only slightly less annoying, but still worthy of note, is when there is just plain water in the bucket. C'mon people! Plain water does not clean bug guts and greasy road grime off of a wind shield!

Pet Peeve #4: Poster boards. I am so tired of teachers constantly requiring projects to be turned in on poster board. For one thing, they are large and cumbersome and not something that I normally stock (or have room to stock) in my house. So I am forced to make late night trips to Rite Aid to get another poster board for the assignment that is due tomorrow. (That last bit is more a pet peeve that I have with my blasted kids waiting until 8:45pm to tell me that they need a stupid poster board for their assignment tomorrow. Rite Aid closes at 9pm! And I'm already in my pjs! And I know I'm going to run into half the town who also just found out that their kids need a #$%! poster board. Lovely.)

That's it, for now. Thanks for letting me vent. :)

Happy Delurker Day!

It's that time again. Time for all of you wonderful lurkers to reveal yourselves and tell me who in the heck you are.

Leave me a comment. You "regulars" are welcome to comment too.

Have I even mentioned that the Comments are the only part of my blog that Nathan likes to read? Sad but true. So give the poor man something to read!

Raising Adana

Just in case anyone was wondering if Adana has mellowed out now that she's 6 years old . . .


. . . I can assure you that she has not! This was the outfit that she wore to school a couple days ago. (And no, it wasn't Dress Like a Floozy Cowboy Day.)

And this is how I found her last night when I checked on her before I went to bed. This girl is more stylish in her sleep than I am during the day.

I'm gonna be so sad when she's too big for the kitchen sink.

Freak of Nature

Torah is 14 1/2 months old . . . and she still only has one little nub of a tooth. I call her a Freak of Nature. Nathan just mumbles some dental gibberish about "abnormal eruption patterns" blah blah blah. Translation: She's a Freak!

It hasn't slowed down her appetite, though. She can chomp gum through an apple with the best of 'em.

And this past week, she is finally starting to get a couple new chompers! Hooray! Unfortunately, the main one coming in is a back molar. Ouch! (Again with Nathan's "atypical eruptions . . .").

She's a pretty cute little gummy Freak, though. :)