Saturday, March 21, 2015
The boys had parent teacher conferences this week. Both got glowing reports from their teachers, perfect report cards, a book from the book fair and two proud parents. There are a lot of things that make me happy with my kids, but the fact that they do well in school, are helpful and studious, kind enough to their fellow classmates that their teachers make it a point to tell us, makes me pretty glowy. I love these kids and was proud of them.
Then, we went to dinner.
We went to a new place. It had buttered noodles on the menu, which is a score for two of the three children that live in my house. We didn't, however, know that the buttered noodles came with... CHEESE!
Oh cheese. Why must you be so...cheesy!
Before the pasta was completely set on the table, boy #2 started the "I'm afraid the food might kill me or sneak into my room in the night" histrionics. He nearly threw up at the sight of pasta with shredded Parmesan cheese on top. After he escalated to a point we haven't seen before, he got taken out to the car. Boy number #3, seeing the award winning hissy fit of his older brother, decided to throw one of the same caliber declaring that he couldn't eat his pasta either, that it was "gwoss", instead crying for the "crispy" that we had bought for a treat if everyone behaved and ATE their dinner. I caught his bowl of pasta just as it was being pushed off the table.
Where was boy #1 during all of this? Mostly eating his dinner, and making fun of his brothers because he thought he was pretty cool. He was pretty cool until he opened up his sandwich and started picking out all the bits and pieces he wanted to eat and then let out such a loud and disgusting belch that 1) I'm surprised YOU didn't hear it and 2) everyone in the restaurant heard it.
Ross and I ate fast.
We boxed up all the food that didn't get eaten.
Those boys, #1, #2, and #3 got a mother of a lecture in the car before we pulled out of the parking lot. They apologized and swore such behavior would never happen again (ha! at least I'm smart enough not to believe them.) We got home and the boys three ran outside on a beautiful night to jump on the trampoline, while their parents lamented their behavior in the house.
Two minutes later, I opened the door to tell them to be careful with their little brother on the trampoline. At that moment, boy #1 did the biggest jump he could, sent boy #3 flying through the air and landing with a whiplash splat onto the black of the trampoline. Bring the crying back!
THAT got a swear word, marching orders, and early showers and bedtime.
Lesson to be learned: Good behavior at school apparently went to their heads.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Mom, i have a canny?
Mom, I have a ogabar? (granola bar)
Mom, baby tang-tang at the zoo. I yike borillas, too. (orangutans and gorillas)
I have a pocasil? (popsicle)
My not a baby, my Quinn.
My not a boy, my Quinn.
"Quinn" says mom, "Do you want to be a big boy and go pee in a toilet?" "No," says Quinn, "I just pee in my pants, okay?"
Mom, I peed. Change my diaper.
We go to hobby hobby? (Hobby Lobby)
I do it. My do it. My can do it.
Scooby Dooby Do, where are you? We got some words to you now.
Can my play on your phone?
We went to the zoo yesterday.
We went to grandmas yesterday.
We take the boys to school yesterday. (everything in his whole life happens...yesterday)
Boys, stop it.
Mom, read me these books!
Mom, what's his (or her or its) name again?
My go to gwammas house, play with Jack?
Quinn, what are you eating? Nuffin. I not eatin nuffin.
Stop yookin at me!
I want awl of em! (In reference mostly to your blankets, but also to t-shirts with monkeys on them, fruit snacks, kindles, and various toys.)
Last week, you sat on my lap and I asked you a series of questions. You had some pretty good answers.
What is your favorite TV show: bubble uppies
What is your favorite song: Geronimo, Happy minions song, Wild Style (gangham style)
What is your favorite color: Blue. And green and purple. And also red.
Who is your favorite mom: Annie
Who is your favorite dad: Woss
Who is your favorite brother: Eeyut, and sometimes Wyatt
Who is your best friend: Jack
Where is Uncle Willie: On a mission
Is Uncle Willie on a mission in Lithuania: No!!! He's on a mission.
Also, this weekend you figured out how to climb out of your crib. Your two brothers before you never could figure that out, but you have. The big boys were down stairs Sunday morning. Your dad and I were lounging, me with my eyes closed and him with his electronic device. Suddenly, downstairs we heard Elliott say, "Hi Quinn, how'd you get down here" and then lots of laughter. Elliott ran up the stairs to proclaim that you had climbed out of bed all on your own. Crazy! Later in the morning I took you back upstairs and said, Okay, show me. I put you back in your crib and up and over you went landing safely on your little stinky feet. Then, you said, "Do it again!" so as we were all laughing, I put you back in your crib for an encore.
You are a nut. You should live in a tree.
Posted by Annie at 9:20 AM
Thursday, March 12, 2015
I really wouldn't have guessed that, two years ago when I bought a sewing machine from Amazon so I could make a tooth fairy monster for my kids, that sewing would have turned into something that I do nearly every single day. It is something that I LOVE. It feeds my brain, uses up all my creativity, and gives me an outlet when I'm stressed out and can find nothing else.
I've tried my hand at making clothing. Two epic skirt fails and I got over clothing pretty quickly. Although, I'll admit that I am pretty good at altering clothes, just not making them.
I've made quilts. About 15 small quilts which all turned out better than I ever could have imagined I've learned how to sew and make my own binding, which is, let's face it, kind of a pain.
But, what I love? I love to make bags, pouches, purses, things with zippers and buttons and snaps. The challenge of following a pattern or even better, designing my own is exciting. I've messed up along the way, but even since last summer, my sewing has improved and If I could sew all day long every day, I'd probably do it.
And the bags? Yeah, I sell those and for a "small business" that is only "out there" for family and friends and has a very small following, I'm not doing to shabby. Still in the red, maybe forever, but it's cool. I love to do it, and at least right now, can afford to do it.
That being said, I was so excited when I got accepted to the Beehive Bazaar this spring. The Bazaar is a large scale crafter and handmade wares showplace that happens twice a year in Provo. It's going on 11 or 12 years in existence and is a pretty big deal. I've got about 7 weeks to get ready and make enough inventory for three days of the show. Eek! It's a lot of pressure but I'm pretty sure I can handle it.
After the show, with a little more "notoriety", I think that I'll head the way of an online shop, or maybe just do the craft show circuit for a while. Not sure. Too many possibilities.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Yesterday, Monday, the boys went back to school. It's hard to believe, I know, but they were off track....again. They are always off track. Tomorrow, Wednesday is their 100th day of school. I'm pretty sure that every other kid in the world had their 100th day of school ages ago.
Anyway, this off-track session wasn't too eventful. The boys didn't want to sign-up for swimming lessons. We didn't have too many plans. It was cold and Wyatt had an ear infection/explosion. So, basically, we laid pretty low for three weeks.
We did though, have a few highlights. Off-track started with Elliott's baptism. Ross' parents and brother's family came to town and we had a nice weekend, with his parents staying a few extra days to hang out with the boys. We went to the Museum of Curiosity, ate pizza and hung out.
During off track we also went to see the SpongeBob movie, went to the Bean Museum and the Waffle Love restaurant in Provo with Haley and the chillins, and Ross took the boys to the zoo while I was home suffering from a brain melt. And, with the boys neighbor friend Owen coming over nearly every day to "hang out" (note: We don't "play" anymore. We "hang out") the boys were pretty busy.
And, during off-track, it snowed. Not a lot, but enough to break out the new boots that the boys got for Christmas and play in the slushy snowy goo long enough to get their fill and come in and have hot chocolate with "toppings" (marshmallows, cream and chocolate chips). That was a pretty good morning.
What else happened? We got a new desktop computer. Ross got a new TV. We went out to eat a lot. I had a 6 day migraine. Ross and I got to go out to dinner without kids twice. We went to the temple to help Haley with some family history. We went to a couple of Utah basketball games. We went to IKEA and I didn't lose my mind. It might be because they don't let customers self-scan at IKEA anymore. I would so much rather stand in line than have to battle my kids over the scanner.
It was a good vacation.
Tuesday, March 03, 2015
Well, what can I say? So far, 2015 has been your year. You turned 8, got baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, started going to cub scouts, and have your mom as your primary teacher. So, pretty much everything that's happened this year has been related to church, but I really think that's okay. It's all a pretty big deal.
You are a good boy. You try your best always to be a good boy. Sometimes you fail, but almost always you succeed. For the last couple of weeks you've had the "I can't do my jobs disease" and every time you are asked to help clean up and put something away your legs are broken, your stomach hurts, or you just fall into a melty ball of goo on the floor. But most of the time you do your best and it makes me and your dad happy that you always are trying your best. Last week, you had the best week of your year, and that is even with being off track. You were happy and cooperative, took good care of Quinn and Wyatt, and it made me happy. Happy enough to buy you a snackee cup at target, for sure.
Lately though, I am so happy that you have finally decided that reading is FUNdamental. You got some great books at Christmastime, pick out pretty lengthy chapter books at the library, and we've been reading "Super fudge" out loud almost every night before going to bed, which is fun for me, you, and Wyatt.
You are a great help in the kitchen, a great help with Quinn, and are fun to talk to. It's interesting to watch you start to transition from hanging out with the kids to wanting to be part of more adult conversations. When Uncle Willie called on Christmas day, you stayed in Grandma Judy's office the entire hour, not wanting to miss a second of your time with Willie, or to miss out on anything that was said for that photographic memory of yours. And, as part of that process of being more grown-up, you listen to and hear everything, even when we don't think that you are. For example, Quinn's kindle is lost and gone forever. We can remember when we last saw it, know who was in our house when we last saw it, but after two weeks of literally searching every square inch of the house, it's no where to be found. Well, we've been talking about it a lot and the other day in the car, when both of your brothers were asleep you said, "So, what ARE we going to do about Quinn's kindle?", as if you were the third adult in the figure it out equation. It was pretty funny.
Basketball was great this year. With dad and Coach Grandpa Karl at the helm, your team did awesome and you improved so much. It was a good time watching the little team play for 8 weeks. You are a talented athlete and it's fun to see you improve. More exciting however, is watching your love of basketball grown. This past Saturday was the last Utah home game of the season. The Huntsman Center was packed, the crowd loud and as Utah battled Arizona, you watched with eagle eyes cheering and talking sports. I got to sit by you for much of the game and it was fun to talk to you and answer your questions. I loved it. Maybe I'll be able to make you a Ute after all.
Really, I'm just proud of you. The amount of firsts sure slow down when you turn 8, but there are still a lot of great things happening all the time. You are a good boy, a good friend and a good brother. At church almost every Sunday we pass notes to each other and plan out our week. You write great sentences all on your own for your spelling homework. You have some pretty sweet dance moves and still love the same songs you've loved for years.
A month or so ago, right around your birthday, you finally had enough money to buy your own ipod touch. It took nearly a year to save up the cash and I was so proud of you when you were able to buy the thing that you've wanted for so long. It took more concentration and focus for such a long time than I thought you had, and even though I'm pretty sure you lost at least $30 along the way, you did it and it was great.
We had a conversation the other day, when you were mad at me of course, about how in heaven, you chose to be part of this family and you chose to be born first. And, as part of that, you volunteered to be the guinea pig son and deal with all the stuff you have to deal with - good and bad - and that as the first born, you, along with your brothers, have high expectations set for you. It was a good conversation, once you took your hands away from your eyes (your most annoying weapon of self defense), and we really got to talk. Yes, your bar is set pretty high but I have complete faith that you will, as you already do, hit that bar and then some throughout your life.
Sunday, March 01, 2015
Oh, my middle boy. The #2 son, the middle brother. And how often stuck in the middle you really are. Sometimes your life feels as if we are on a roller coaster of emotions. You are torn between idolizing your older brother and tolerating your little brother. You have to share all your toys, you get yelled at more than you'd like, and you are either always being tormented or being the tormentor. It's a busy life, being the middle kid.
You memorize the lyrics to nearly every single song you've ever heard. Often on the first listening. It's a pretty amazing skill you've got. You love music, but don't like it too loud. You are a great dancer, too with some pretty fancy and fast foot work. You are a master Lego builder, TV watcher and kindle player. You are good at entertaining yourself when Elliott isn't around, and lately, are such an artist. You can draw really well and I love to watch you create monsters, or Sponge Bob, or draw millions of minions.
Since you were a little kid, you've always been sensitive. You can sense pain in others and give an unsolicited hug or you can stub your toe and scream as if your foot has been amputated. But, I'll admit that often times, that scream is warranted. Like last week. On Saturday you went to a swimming birthday party for your friend AJ. When I arrived to pick you up from the party, as soon as you saw me, you were hysterical. Screaming until you were literally blue in the face. AJ's mom told me, because you couldn't talk, that you had complained of your ear hurting at the swimming pool and decided to just lay on your towel and miss out on the fun. Well, by the time you got home, the pain was apparently unbearable. I found some numbing ear drops and as soon as those kicked in, you zonked on the couch in your damp swimsuit wrapped in blankets. We managed to survive the night alternating numbing drops and swimmers ear drops and when you woke up in the morning, the side of your head, inside your ear, and your bed were bloody. Dad took you to instacare and your ear drum had ruptured in the night from pressure caused by swimmers ear and the rupture caused a massive infection. You and dad were sent home with antibiotics for your body and your ear. But, you took it like a man and recovered pretty quickly. We all felt so bad for you - you were in so much pain. I'm so sorry.
You love school. We've got one more week of off-track and it's killing you. I wouldn't have guessed it from you, but you could go to school every single day for the rest of your life, I'm sure and never get tired of it. It's so fun to see you thrive in school, to see you reading and doing homework, and to see your friends all yell, "BYE WYATT!" at the end of the day when I come to pick you up. There are two little girls, Stella and Lydia, who are in love with you. A couple of weeks ago, we were getting in the car and Quinn's door opened. It was Stella. All on her own, she climbed halfway into the car to look you straight in the eye and tell you goodbye. It was sweet and embarrassed you fully. I hope though, that you really do love school and learning forever.
You are a great trampoline jumper, scooter rider, and Slurpee consumer. You tell funny stories, have an infectious laugh, and tell me that you miss Uncle Willie every day. But, like the rest of us, you know there is a big trip to Disneyland coming when Willie gets home so it's going to be a double whammy of excitement next year at this time for sure.
This spring you are going to play machine pitch baseball. I cannot believe you are old enough, but you are. You are growing up faster than I can keep track of. It's so exciting. And, as long as you will still sit on my lap, lean on my shoulder when we watch a movie, and write me love notes, I'll let you grow up.