I'll have the Chow Mein, hold the trendy, please.

Tonight was date night. There's this Chinese restaurant that I've been wanting to go to in a nearby neighboring town. I see commercials for it all the time on TV and I've been wanting a nostalgic taste of my childhood upbringing in heavily Asian populated Southern California. The commercials have enticing scenes of happy people eating delicious authentic food in a great atmosphere. What more could you want? So we got there and the place was nicely decked out in ornate Asian decor. The patrons looked happy and experienced. We sat down at a nice table with cloth napkins folded like a fan, non disposable wooden chopsticks held together by a pretty, red embroidered flower, and two large, puffy, leather clad, multi page, heavy duty cardstock menus. I was excited. It took a moment to decipher the mei fun, ho fun, dim sun, etc. The Caucasian waiter brought David a Diet Coke and me a water with a nicely cut slice of lemon on the rim. I asked him to give us a few more moments and I politely requested a straw. I diligently searched the menu for a dish that I recognized, but couldn't find the traditional dishes that I remembered as a child at the Mandarin Wok. When he returned he brought one straw and we placed our orders. When he asked me if I wanted Joy White Rice or (something) fried rice, I became confused at the trendiness and changed my order to an entree called Pineapple Fried Rice (no options.) The meal came quickly and was garnished with a cleverly sliced section of cucumber. David's had a cleverly twisted slice of carrot. But when I looked at the mound of rice, vegetables and pineapple tidbits I had a difficult time enjoying my $9 meal knowing I could have made the same thing on my electric smooth cooktop range for about $0.79. However, my last few fork bites did reveal a nice Dragon Palace emblem in the center of the plate, a pleasure I would not have experienced at home. I didn't bother with chopsticks because they looked completely cosmetic. When our plates appeared to be licked clean, a Caucasian waitress took away our plates and our waiter brought the bill tray void of almond and fortune cookies. He said, "Do you care for any dessert such as fried ice cream?" Fried ice cream? How about some churros? We generously left him a 14.25% tip (he neglected to offer a beverage refill.) I was a bit disappointed with the lack of fulfillment to my commercial induced expectations. As we grabbed our free fortune cookies from the big jar on the way out, I thought to myself, our part of the country definitely needs a larger dose of Chinese immigrants to bring in some MSG laden beef and brocolli, cashew chicken, and almond cookies wrapped in wax paper. Now that's Chinese!

Happy 7th Months Jason!

(I used to take my first 3 children to Walmart Portrait studio on their month birthdays for the first year. Now all the 5th child gets is a pictureless shout out in my blog.)

Bradley was reading me a story. There was a sentence with the word Egypt. I automatically pronounced the word for him, assuming he would not recognize it and ask for help. But it ended up we said it simultaneously, then he paused, looked at me and said with a tad bit of annoyance, "Mommy, I know that word. Egypt is on my map in my room." He then continued to confidently read the story.

Deja Vu

These two videos are both taken two days before Wendy and Jason's 7 month birthdays.

January 30, 2006


May 8, 2007

He says pə-jä'mə. I say pə-jăm'ə. He orders mashed potatoes. I order sweet potatoes. He drives with the windows down. I drive with the windows up. He watches Heroes. I watch the Bachelor. (But I know he loves to secretly watch it from his peripheral vision as he sits in the kitchen working on his laptop. He can't fool me!)

Poor Amber! She doesn't get her chance at the next failed Bachelor relationship. She took a risk to put her heart on the line to get it broken. And now back to Sugarland, TX to be welcomed by her parents and a big fat, "I told you so!"

Priorities

Every Sunday when we get home from church David and I go upstairs to change our clothes. Today as I lay on my bed talking to David as he hung his suit, I could hear Wendy crying downstairs. I assumed it was a reaction to some My Little Pony sibling snatching or the like. My usual reaction to an incident like that is to let the kids work it out on their own. She cried for several minutes and as I was approaching the door to go downstairs, I saw her walking down the hall with snotty, tear diluted blood dripping from her mouth. Naturally I picked her up and held her a foot in front of me not allowing her to lay her bloody face on my brand new Target white cable knit, short sleeved sweater. She was trying so hard to force her little traumatized head on me for some comfort and I wasn't giving it to her. I put her on my bed face up and wiped her clean. Apparently she had fallen and bitten her upper lip and we never did figure out how she fell because there were suspiciously no witnesses to the incident. I gave her a kiss.

There is something about bloody kids and my white cable knit sweaters because Jason was born while I was wearing my brand new Gap maternity white cable knit sweater. When the ER nurse asked if I wanted to hold my brand new baby boy. I told her "no" because I didn't want to wreck my new sweater. I said, "Cut the cord, clean him up and bring him back wrapped in a blanket." She understood.

Later that evening when Wendy fell off her high chair and thumped her face on the tile floor. I immediately swooped her up and allowed her to lay her head on my shoulder. This time I had already changed into an Old Navy clearanced Valentine's Day T-shirt before eating my spaghetti dinner.

I don't like to say the word "hate", but I HATE cockroaches! HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE HATE them. Last night as I was getting ready for bed, there was a nasty 2 inch flying one in my bedroom. The sucker barely responded to the Raid spray. Finally I sucked him up with the vacuum cleaner and drowned him in Raid in the removable vacuum compartment and flushed him down the toilet. I had very unrestful sleep last night. It's not fair. Roaches are terrorists. There should be a war on roaches. They should be eliminated from the earth.

The Drama

Emily had a friend over to play today and this is their drama.

Piano, guitar, and singing come to a sudden halt. Emily runs into the family room and buries her head in the couch and pretends to cry. Her friend comes to console her.

FRIEND: It's ok. It's going to snow really hard tomorrow and the power is going to go out for 100 years."

EMILY: No, 1000 years ... or ... 1269 years."

FRIEND: Yeah, 1260 years. So we can't have band practice tomorrow.

It's morning. They run through the house screaming, "Snow everywhere! It's so cold! Get blankets!"

Bradley (standing strong in the middle of the room ): I never get cold.

More screaming and running.

EMILY: I'm going to get frozen!

FRIEND: Come on, we've got to get away from this lava!

EMILY: Pretend I am stuck in the woods. Bradley, stand there and pretend you're a tree and I am going to grab onto you.

Emily loses grip of the tree and as a result more screaming.

EMILY: A walking tree!

More running and screaming and pitter patter of footsteps upstairs.
A few moments later they all come into the kitchen.

EMILY: Mommy, can we watch a movie?

The drama is over.

Have you ever slept with a 2 liter bottle?

As I lovingly gazed at my six month old baby in his crib last night I noticed he was cuddling with his delicious bottle of formula. I realized how large it was against his cute little petite body and it made me think how odd, or perhaps delightful, it would be to doze off to sleep nuzzled up to a 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke.

We took the kids to the pool for the first time this season after David got home from work. After I put my bathing suit on, I noticed my bikini line had been severely neglected during the months of winter hibernation. I got out the electric clippers and as I started shaving away Bradley walked in and said, "Mommy, what are you doing?"
I replied, "Shaving my pubes."
"What are pubes?"
Concentrating on my task I briefly answered, "Pubic hairs or hair on your crotch."
Bored with the conversation, Bradley walked away. Then Emily walked in and said, "Mommy, what are you doing?"
"Shaving my pubes."
"Why?"
"Well, it's much prettier when the hair is shaved. When you get older you will have hair too and you will understand. However, Europeans don't seem to mind."
A little confused Emily asked, "My o-pee-ins? What's that?"

My kids love to play pretend. I have been the innocent bystander of many dragon slayings, pirate fights and princess rescues. Today I heard Emily say in the background, "Bradley, let's pretend you're the brother and I'm the sister and we ...."

I've had a Sit'nSpin in my downstairs half bath for a week now that's been serving as a step stool. We do not live the Pottery Barn lifestyle. I write this as I sit here and eat buy one get one free Mini Nilla Wafers and store brand skim milk. The Pottery Barn lifestyle would feed me full price Pepperidge Farm's Milanos and Silk Soymilk with a side of Dove Chocolate covered Haagen Dazs bon bons.

The kids have had this thing for about two months now that when they strip off their clothes they say, "We're ready for church!" Tonight I took Jason out of the bath and held him out in front of me face forward so my clothes didn't get wet. When I asked Bradley why he was laughing uncontrollably he managed to phrase between the giggles, "Because Jason is ready for church."

The kids walked outside barefoot yesterday and I wanted them to wash their feet before hopping into their nice white linen bed. I stuck them in the master bathtub with a bottle of baby soap. I meant for it to be a quick foot bath, however, the novelty of being in mommy's luxurious, deep, jetted tub made Emily ask, "Mommy, can we wash our vaginas and balls?"

Pickled Placenta

I recently read on a blog about a woman who has her placenta in her freezer. Intrigued by this, I decided to research the topic a bit more. I learned that some people actually eat the placenta, a practice called placentophagia. It's not a common practice in the western world, but there's a slew of recipes on the internet to help you know how to prepare the ephemeral organ. There's Placenta Cocktail (a V8 type drink), Placenta Lasagna, Placenta Pizza, Roasted Placenta, Placenta Spaghetti Bolognaise, Placenta Stew and even Dehydrated Placenta (like beef jerky.) Now I don't know if this woman plans on feeding it to her kid on his first birthday like the top of a wedding cake because it is also common to ceremonially plant it with a tree. Nevertheless, how have I never heard of placentophagia? Apparently even Tom Cruise knew about it. Do you know how many good placentas I've wasted? Five to be exact. How come the hospital staff insists on discarding the placenta in a sterile metal bucket to be whisked away to some undisclosed placenta receptacle? There is probably a secret doctor conspiracy to make the placenta seem ugly and disgusting and if you open the door on the maternity floor that says "Employees Only" you would find a bunch of doctors and nurses feasting on placenta. At the very least they could show it to me and let me touch it. Next time I will put "large empty pickle jar" on my Things to Take to the Hospital List.

Pickled Placenta anyone?

There Goes Peter Cottontail

Spring has sprung
Flowers in bloom
You'll only be here
Until the middle of June

I love you Easter
And all that you bring
The eggs, the jelly beans
The songs that we sing

But Easter has passed
Boiled eggs in our tummies
So sad, but so true
I Spacebagged the bunnies

Good night. Sleep tight? Time for Bradley to sleep in his own bed.

On our way to church yesterday, there was a strawberry festival that we passed. The kids were excited to see the ferris wheel and all the people and Bradley said, "Look, a vestible!" We all laughed at Bradley's incorrect phonetics. Then Emily corrected Bradley by saying, "Bradley, it's not a vestible. It's a festible!"

Sarah was sitting at the kids table holding some colored pencils. I asked her, "Sarah, are you coloring?"
She answered, "No mommy, I playing pencils."
And sure enough she sat at the table acting out the drama between Mama pencil, Papa pencil and Baby pencil.

Happy Anniversary to us! 7 Years down, eternity to go.

Have I mentioned that Jason is crawling? Well kind of crawling. He's doing the "get on the hands and knees and lunge forward until you reach your destination thing." He's loving it. A very happy boy.

Is it wrong to expect your 5th child to accept his mother's blog as his official baby book?

My side of the phone converstion 25 years into the future:

....I'm sorry, Jason. It's just....it's just that I was so busy!
....I don't know, like 5 minutes.
....well, yeah, but I couldn't find a cute baby book for you. I just didn't think Winnie the Pooh fit your personality.
....babies do too have personality! You had personality since the moment you popped out.
....Yes, there was online shopping back then.
....I can send you $25 and the links to your growth stats. Just check my archives.
....but your wife has nice handwriting.
....she told you what?
....well, your sister is wrong!
....the reason you don't have any professional baby pictures is not because you weren't cute!
....she's just jealous because we didn't have 6 megapixels when she was a baby.
....Sweetie, will you please forgive me?
....I love you too. Bye.

Then the guilt will overcome me and I will order a baby book online, fill it out and give it to him for Christmas that year along with a $500 gift certicate and club membership to JC Penney Portrait Studio.

Nine Buckets

What's in the buckets?

Bottom Row: White Sugar, Brown Sugar, All Purpose Flour

Middle Row: Buttermilk Pancake Mix, Pasta, Morning Moo

Top Row: Junk, Beans, Junk

Past Post Redemption

My husband told me he wasn't so sure about my Evolution of Prayer post. He asked me, "Do you really pray like that?" So let me clarify. That technically is not an actual prayer that I have prayed. In case my readers didn't get it, my point was that as an adult I expect things to go wrong before they even happen and all the things I listed were meant to demonstrate and emphasize the frustrations and quirkiness of motherhood. I admire everyday how my children make it a point to give thanks ahead of time to their Heavenly Father for the goodness of their day. That particular day my admiration caused me to consequently reflect upon my own prayers and I realized that my prayers sometimes probably sound pretty ridiculous. But, I do know that we have a Heavenly Father who listens to them and we can pray and ask Him for anything that is righteous, including specifics. No problem is too small for Him to be bothered with. With that said, I must redeem myself and admit my prayers are more substantial than the one I posted. I'm not a total nut case. However, I will continue to pray for inspiration to know what to cook for dinner because I know my husband won't contest to that. Peanut Butter Spaghetti anyone?

No, thanks. Pray a little harder, Mom!

I told Bradley today that he used to refer to Mickey Mouse by saying, "Mee Mou." Confused, he said, "I said it like a cat?"

Tonight my husband was giving a lesson on prayer. He told a story about a mother whose baby was injured. She was at home and had no way of going to get medical help for the child. Then my husband explained that she probably didn't have a car to drive the baby to the doctor. Bradley then sincerely added his suggestion with a question, "Or Daddy, maybe her house didn't have doors?" The story went on to say that she said a prayer and a few moments later a neighbor came to help out. Bradley's version would've had the mother praying for a door.

Today I was especially observant of the people at church today. I love to see the colorful personalities. Today there was the 8 year old boy with an orange pair of pliers plotting his next scheme in a small, pocket notebook, the mother trying to keep her 3 year old child occupied with the pictures in a Captain Underpants book, the grandfather fast asleep, the teenager doodling what teenagers doodle, the boy with a large eyeball behind a magnifying glass, the lonely husband with a pew all to himself whose family must have been out of town, two young girl cousins passing notes back and forth, the 6 year old girl singing the chorus of "Welcome, Welcome Sabbath Morning" loudly and slightly off key (she's mine), the 2 year old girl eating a strawberry push pop sucker, the eight year old boy with his head on his mom's lap, the struggling mother with her screaming toddler child, the 4 year old boy making a chair out of hymn books (he's mine), two menopausal women fanning themselves with the program, the small, mature, businessman-like 12 year old sitting reverently with his parents, and the toddler girl sticking crayons one by one into her mother's cleavage (she's mine.) I love church!

A Mother's Word of Wisdom

When in doubt, always assume your little girl's panties belong in the dirty laundry.

Took the family to Office Depot tonight because I was hoping to find my keys there. No such luck. But as David was browsing the daily calendar planners the oldest kids sat themselves in the aisle, each holding a small calendar booklet. They pretended to read stories. I could hear them narrating, "Once upon a time January said to February, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8."

Has anyone seen my keys?

A Young Mind

My husband bought a pair of shoes on Ebay. They came in the mail today and he tried them on to find out that they were a tad too big. Optimistic Emily said, "That's ok. You'll grow into them."

Does anybody know where my keys are?!

Evolution of Prayer

My prayer:
"Dear Heavenly Father, I thank Thee for my many blessings: for my home, my health, my family and everything else in between. I beg Thee to please bless me with a good day. Bless my children with obedience. Bless me with patience not to hurt them. Help me to fold laundry without cursing. Help me to cook dinner with a smile. Help me to remember to give my husband a kiss when he gets home from work. Bless my husband to remember to give me a back rub tonight. Help me to understand the complexity of marriage. I pray I might remember to go to bed early tonight and not stay up late blogging (although I will stay up until midnight to watch Jay Leno's Headlines. Is midnight too late?) Please bless the baby to sleep through the night because I need some good rest before we have another one. Bless me with kindness because I think I need a little more. I pray that the chocolate ice cream stain will come out of my daughter's brand new $40 dress when she spills on it. Help my son to remember to put underpants on lest we get in a car accident. I pray that my children might quietly watch educational TV shows the entire day and not mess up the playroom that I diligently cleaned last night. I pray I might fill out my taxes correctly because Thou knows I will never be able to find my supporting documentation in three years. Bless the M&Ms and Peeps I ate for lunch to nourish my body the same as a roast beef sandwich on 100% whole wheat bread, 10 baby carrots and a glass of skim milk. I pray that frozen chicken nuggets might be the perfect food because my children eat them everyday. Please bless the compound interest we are depending on for retirement. And last but not least, bless me to know what I should cook for dinner tonight. I know that Thou has power to do all these things, but if for some reason it is not Thy will, please bless me with the optimism of my children. I thank Thee very much. Amen."

My children's prayer:
"Dear Heavenly Father, I thank thee for the wonderful day that we are going to have. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Happy Easter!

Don't let the sweet looks fool you:

Who knew lawn care was like dating?

We are trying to revive our centipede lawn grass. I requested two estimates from two different companies about one week ago. For the first one, a kind, nice looking, young man named Brad came to my door and did a 14 point analysis of the lawn. He patiently explained it to me at my door. He recommended 7 rounds of treatments at approximately $45 each and $75 for core aeration. "Ok." I thought. "It sounds good to me." On the bottom of the analysis sheet he wrote his name, phone number and "Call tonight 4-8."

The next day the second company came and pretty much did the same type of estimate. However, he did not come to my door. He analyzed and left it in a plastic bag on my door handle. His estimate included 6 treatments at approximately $38 each and $56 for core aeration.

Both companies called me back to try to win me over. The first company was more diligent and Brad called everyday until he got an answer. The second company called nearly a week later to see if I was interested. Being the cheap person I am, I went for the second company because their prices were less and I thought that lawn service is lawn service. Well, just minutes after I hung up on my acceptance call, Brad called and my heart sank. I felt like I was breaking up with Brad to date Weed Man. But he was kind to me and said, "I'm sorry to hear that price is your determining factor. Please remember we are the nation's number one lawn care service. When things don't work out with them, be sure to give us a call and we will take good care of you."

Ouch! Gulp.

Well, today my blind date arrived. He knocked on my door and wasn't as nice looking as Brad. Perhaps he may have been exposed to his lawn chemicals a bit too long. Then he asked me what it was that I wanted. I told him I wanted what he quoted the other day which according to his sheet was a first annual weed control. I peeked at him out my blinds and all he did was lazily push a fertilizer cart across my lawn and drove off leaving me a bill on my door handle for $38 for Spring fertilization. Umm....I could've done that. Where's my weed control, Weed Man?

I called and expressed my frustrastion and he's not getting a second date nor my money. Oh Brad, will you please take me back?

Lesson: Don't go on blind dates! There's a reason they don't want you to see them first.

Happy 6th Birthday Emily! Emily got a karaoke machine and here is her rendition of The Itsey Bitsey Spider Went Up the Spout Again:

And her "birthday song":

Helmet Safety

Bradley was puttering around on his bike on the driveway and he went to get his helmet. He asked me, "Mommy, you know why I put on my helmet?"
I was proud that he understood the importance of bike saftey and I replied, "Umm....so you can be safe?"
"No, to keep the bugs off my head."

Sixteen Seconds in the Life of the Cole Family

Sometimes people ask me what I do with five kids at home during the day. Well, here is a 16 second glimpse:

Pooping: a New Form of Entertainment

Emily pooped and requested my help in wiping. When I walked into the bathroom, Bradley was sitting on a stool (not "the stool"), but a small bench we have in the bathroom, observing Emily as if pooping were a spectator sport. They were giggling and Emily said, "My poop looks like a tree, a brown tree." And of course, more giggling followed. I should take my kids outside more often so they can analyze the clouds.

Putting in the Ritz

Emily called it "Bradley's speaker."

Always Take Off the Training Wheels After a Professional Photo Shoot

We finally did it. We finally got the kids pictures taken at JCpenney today. We hadn't been since August 2005 so we pretty much missed a year for each of the kids, but better now than never. Wendy and Sarah took good pictures, but I didn't get any of Emily or Bradley. They looked goofy in their shots, so I will take them again another week. Wendy was out of practice so she had absolutely no idea what she was doing sitting on the stool with a crowd of people around her and Daddy jumping up and down behind the camera making funny noises. I imagine the situation could be a little frightening. We managed to get a quarter of a smile out of her when I dangled a package of fun fruits beneath the lens of the camera. Why do parents treat their kids like circus animals? Anyway, after $210 of photos, we survived the session and we even got a pretty good picture of all of them together.

Emily learned to ride her bike today without her training wheels! It's too bad I didn't get a better video of David running, flailing, and grunting along side her. It would've been a good blog video. This one will have to do.

I've been very camera lazy lately because I also missed another great blog photo of two razorback hogs wandering on the side of the highway today. I don't know if they were wild or if some lady was walking them. Nonetheless, it was a strange sight to see.

Take Kids to the Circus. Check!

We took the kids to the Cole Brothers Circus tonight.

That's $8 worth of popcorn that I'm holding. They had cool motorcycle stunts, acrobats, trapeze artists, and a flying cannon girl. Bradley's favorite act was the dancing poodles because "they were funny." (At least he didn't say "the clowns.")

Dialogue of the day:

"Sarah, would you please put your shoes in the cubby?"
Sweetly, "No."
"Sarah, please put your shoes in the cubby."
Charmingly, "I too little!"
"You're not too little."
"I am too little." Then beggingly, "Mommy, I too little, please?"

I Think I'm Sick. I Know I'm Sick. I'm Going to Die a Slow Horrible Death!

Ok, so I went through an acute episode of hypochondria the past week. I saw a dark vertical line in my left pinkie nail and right middle finger nail last Wednesday. I looked it up online and self-diagnosed it as a splinter hemorrhage. The most common cause of them are injuries to the nail, but I of course, was convinced I had the worst case scenario cause which is endocarditis, or an infection of the heart. I had no other symptoms such as fever, muscle ache, or fatigue, but I knew I was destined to die. Just as a I was recovering from the paranoia after my husband tried to reassure me that he thought I was just fine, I woke up in a night sweat. Having remembered reading that night sweats were also a symptom of endocarditis, I was doubly sure I was infected and going to die. Well, it ended up that the the splinter hemorrhages are most likely due to injury (I hope.) I noticed that I habitually chew on my pinkie nail when I sit at the computer. And the night sweats were due to a dip in my estrogen levels before my period (I hope.) So that is why I haven't posted for a few days. I have been paralyzed with paranoia. But I'm better now. I don't think I am going to die (at least not today.)

A Little Dose of Cute

Jason's First Swing Ride

The Narcoleptic Baby

What Are Potatoes Made Out of?

The kids were doing a USA puzzle today and I asked, "What do they grow a lot of in Idaho?"
They didn't know, so I answered, "Potatoes."
Then with enthusiasm, Emily said, "Mmmmmm. I love potatoes! I love them because they are juicy and made out of ketchup!"
"Huh? Do you mean you love tomatoes?"
"Oh, yeah."

I realized the influence my imaginative kids have on me. As I was getting ready to vacuum the corners of my bathroom today, I said aloud to myself, "The sword is missing." So I went downstairs to retrieve "the sword" that I had stuck in my magazine bin. A few years ago it would have simply been "the long skinny vacuum cleaner attachment."

It's All About Perspective

I showed Emily and Bradley where Australia is on the globe. Bradley saw the various lakes and said, "Mommy, that country has puddles!"


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



I suppose stuffing your shirt with wipes seems like a good idea to a child under two.

Quote of the Day:

"One time in the night, I did a fake fart, and then when I did a real fart, it sounded like my fake one."

-Emily

We went to the public library this afternoon. I have been wanting to go all week because I don't think it's a good idea to take five small children to a library by myself. My goal is to read all the Newberry Medal Winner books and I wanted to get some. When we got there, I think the kids were a little overwhelmed by all the books. Emily gravitated to the leprachaun craft that other kids were making, Sarah went to the wooden puzzles and Bradley sat himself comfortably with a headset at the computer to play some computer games. So much for books. I also checked out an Electric Company DVD and in the car ride home David shouted, "HEY YOU GUYS!" Emily reacted with, "Stop being obnoxious."

I folded 3 loads of laundry this evening and after completion I realized I did not fold a single pair of Bradley's underwear. I guess he went commando all week. That's weird. Well........not that weird if you know Bradley.

David was laying down with the kids the other night in there room before they went to sleep and he remembered that he needed to make some of Sarah's Morning Moo milk for the morning. (Sarah gets really bad eczema when she drinks regular milk so we give her a powdered lactose-free milk.) David said, "Bradley remind me to make some more Morning Moo."
So immediately Bradley reminded his Daddy, "Don't forget to make Morning Moo."
"No Bradley, remind me when I leave to make some more Morning Moo."
"Ok. Daddy make some more Morning Moo when you leave."
"No Bradley, remind me when I go downstairs to make some Morning Moo."
"Daddy, make more Morning Moo when you go downstairs."

Happy 36th Birthday!

David turned 36 today. He had a normal day at work. I ventured out with the kids to Target and the grocery store. We bought Daddy Uno H2O Splash at Target. Then as I was perusing the clearance children's clothing, my kids found these T-shirts that they are wearing in the above picture. The shirts say, "My Dad is the Man." Daddy was pleased to see them wearing them when he got home. Daddy also got an American flag to hang on the house, Peter Pan DVD, and an iTunes giftcard. We celebrated with pizza and chocolate cake.

Princess Jason

I walked in the room and found this:

Can you tell this little boy has 3 older sisters?

I am reading the kids Superfudge by Judy Blume. As the girls continued drawing, I announced that we finished chapter 3 and would resume the next day with chapter 4, "Off the Wall." Sarah suavely commented, "That's cool."

This morning Sarah put her panties on backwards. David told her the big part goes on her big butt. With a smile she embellished the instruction and said, "On my big, beautiful butt."

We bought Emily a kid's crossword puzzle book this weekend. She was proud and happy to immediately know the answer to 8 across "You push this in the grocery store." However she was having difficulty spelling cart. She has trouble with placement of vowels. So I shouted out to her younger brother Bradley, "Hey Bradley, how do you spell 'cart'?" Without a moment of hesitation he shouts back, "C-A-R-T, cart." With wide eyes filled with amazement and a tinge of envy, Emily looked at me and quietly said, "He's smart!"

Daylight savings has messed up our kids circadian rhythms. I could hear Emily and Bradley talking in bed up until midnight tonight. I thought it might be entertaining to secretly listen to their conversation outside their door. I heard Bradley describe something as "this big!" and could tell he was exaggeratedly spreading his arms as wide as he could to the point where his arms were beginning to go behind him. Then I heard Emily say in a serious tone, "Bradley, you can't do that because the people behind you will think you are showing them how little."

Bathtime is one my least favorite parental duties. So I hurried through it tonight and scrubbed and rinsed the kids. Sarah was the most dissapointed for bathtime to be over. When I took her out of the tub, she cried with tears, "Mommy, I don't want to get out. I love water! I love the bath!" She's been emphasizing her love for things lately. She also loves Barbies, she loves coloring, and she loves cereal.

Happy 5 months, Jason!

There was a feather in our fried chicken.

David got the kids ready for bed (pajamas on and teeth brushed) this evening at about 8:00PM and brought them downstairs to watch American Idol. When I went to bed at 12:00AM the water was still running full blast in my bathroom sink. Ughhh! Bye bye 360 (1.5 gallons/min x 240 minutes) gallons of water! At least it wasn't the hot water.

With her arm reaching toward the kitchen counter, Wendy spoke her first sentence this morning:

"Gai gwa daw gwit."
(I want chocolate.)

Spoken like a true girl!

The tooth fairy didn't visit last night. (Whoops!) We explained to Emily that the toothfairy doesn't work on weekends. She was cool with that.

The family debated tonight whether the tooth fairy was a boy or girl. Emily confidently explained that the tooth fairy is a small, beautiful, sparkly girl, that carries a wand that she uses to turn the lost tooth into a shiny new coin. Bradley proposed that there were multiple tooth fairies, girl ones for girls and boy ones for boys. Daddy clarified that the tooth fairy was most definitely a man and proved his point with this image he found online:
Her small, beautiful, sparkly tooth fairy image was crushed. With a nervous smile Emily half giggled with a look on her face that implied she was questioning whether to continue inviting this strange man into her bedroom an additional 18 times with this whole tooth fairy pillow tradition thing.

I was craving an episode of SpongeBob this morning so I grabbed the remote and sat on the couch. I entered 026, Nickelodeon, and accidentally got Blue's Room. Bradley caught a quick glimpse of the furry blue dog and shouted, "Blue's Room!" But I corrected my error quickly and entered 132, Nick Too, and as I predicted an episode of SpongeBob was playing. Bradley protested my choice and begged for Blue's Room. I tried to persuade him that Blue was for babies and he was too old for it. Whenever I sit down to watch TV with my kids, they gravitate toward me like magnets and snuggle close almost to the point of annoyance. So by this point Emily was at my right side with her arm hooked under mine. Finally I gave in to Bradley and pressed the previous channel button. Blue was on the screen teaching about Pointillism. I said, "I guess we can watch something educational." Then Emily added with a disgusted tone, "When we watch this show, we learn."

After Bradley excused himself from the dinner table he sat down in the playroom to read Dr. Suess's Green Eggs and Ham. At the end of the book is a picture of Sam with a full belly. Bradley showed it to Daddy and said, "Look Daddy. He's fat!"
In return Daddy said, "He's fat?"
Then Bradley said, "Yeah. Like you."

Quote of the day:

"Mommy, when I farted, pee came out. How can that happen?"

-Emily

Emily lost her first tooth today.

Sarah Monkey

We are now officially the parents of "the kid at church who experimentally sticks his finger down his throat in Sunday school and consequently pukes on the teacher."

We got a letter in the mail today from our neighborhood's property management services saying that we are in violation of a rule because our vehicle is not parked properly. We've been parking a vehicle in that same spot for nearly three years now and have never been told such a thing. I looked the company up online this evening and learned it is a new company started by two women. The irrational complaint made a whole lot more sense when I learned that their domain name is springfieldpms.com.

If you ever observe the aging process of a popsicle in the freezer over a period of about six months, you would find that the water slowly evaporates leaving a sticky, colored, syrupy mass contained inside the waxy paper wrapper. Tonight Bradley begged me for a popsicle and I told him that I got rid of them because they weren't really popsicles anymore. He informed me that our babysitter allowed him to have one the week prior. I said, "Really?" And he said, "Yes, I like the gooey purple ones."

Our kids are just small. The doctor finally admitted it. I even stuffed Jason with formula this past week to ensure that his weight would be on the growth charts unlike Wendy who was still 8 pounds at her four month appointment just 15 months ago. However, our kids have never had a problem with their head size. It must be all those brains!

Jason (4 months):
24.75 inches (25th%)
13 pounds (10th%)
17 inch head circumference (75th %)

Sarah (3 years):
33 inches (5th%)
26 pounds (10th%)

Baby Jason's Giggle

Happy Four Months, Slobber Face!

Ahhhhh. This is the life!

What's for dinner, kids?

Baby stew with a side of Weeble.

I was discussing with Emily types of fruits. I told her fruits were typically juicy. She guessed that cherries were a fruit. I told her she was correct and added a trivial fact that cherries give you stinky farts. Then she thought for a moment, developed a one-sided smile and appeared as if a light bulb switched on above her head and used her new found biological knowledge to conclude that "Daddy must eat a lot of cherries."

I started to read James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl to the kids today. At the beginning James is orphaned at four years old and goes to live with his two mean aunts. Today Bradley was driving me bananas with typical boyish acts and I told him that he needed to get himself under control or I was going to send him to live with his two big mean aunts. A look of fear entered his facial expression and he quietly whimpered, "No." After a moment of thought, he regained a smile and said, "Mommy. Ants aren't big, they're little!" and went off to play, totally disregarding my threat.

I was getting Sarah dressed for church this morning. She was goofing off several feet away and I told her she better get her naked, little hiney over here before I slapped it. She came over quickly with a smile (because she knew I was kidding) and gave a little sideways, leftward boost of her hiney in my direction and informed me there was a treasure in it.

Bradley was gathering lots of blocks and declared he was, "going to get all the blocks in the whole wild world!"

Happy 3rd Birthday, Sarah!

I read a short story with Emily about giraffes. It said giraffes only need one hour of sleep each day. I quizzically asked Emily how many of hours she sleeps each day. She laughed as if I were kidding and said, "None! I don't sleep in the day."

I just wanted to show off my new toilet seat. Isn't it beautiful?

Scene of the day: naked Sarah balancing a six slice plastic pizza topped with a wooden egg atop her head. Or.....Emily tumbling down the stairs because she couldn't get her shirt over her head and decided to keep it there, clouding her vision while she walked down to request help from Mommy. Or.....baby Jason crying after he kicked the latched tray off his swing causing him to plop on the floor. Or.....Sarah's 5 inch long locks of hair sitting beside the sink due to her substitution of barbering for tooth brushing. Or.....the jinx moment when Daddy commented to Emily that she must be able to see inside his head and her reply was, "Yeah, and there's a lot of cobwebs!" Or.....Bradley eating his angel hair pasta dinner the entire time with a noodle on his forehead.

" It's a dinglehopper!"

"Last one to bed is a rotten egg!"
And off runs Sarah with a five pound dumbell.

I was working on blend sounds with Emily and Bradley today. For each blend we discussed, they would choose a word to spell containing that blend. We were working on the "sh" sound and Emily announced she was going to spell "shh" as in the "be quiet shh." Bradley followed suit, but he not being confident in his spelling, went to the bookshelf and pulled out the board book titled, The Monster at the End of this Book by Jon Stone. He immediately turned to page three and counted the number of H's in the very prominent bubble letter text. He was quite satisfied when acclaimed Mr. Stone established that shhh has four H's.

O Christmas Tree

(solemnly)

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
How lovely were thy branches
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
How lovely were thy branches

'Tis now the time to take thee down
Before thee turns an ugly brown
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
How lovely were thy branches

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Without your lights you look so bare
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Without your lights you look so bare

I loved you so, you were mighty fine
I'll miss your shine and smell of pine
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Without your lights you look so bare

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Much pleasure didst thou bring me
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Much pleasure didst thou bring me

I fight the tears, just one last touch
Perhaps in Spring, you'll be my mulch
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Much pleasure didst thou bring me

Goodbye, Christmas tree.

Parenthood brings occasions that you would never guess to expect. Tonight Bradley called me into the bathroom to tell me that his poop was stuck in his butt. As I approached the bathroom, my attention was attracted to a dark spot on the wallpaper next to the toilet. Upon closer examination I realized it was a chickpea sized lump of poop and a six inch downward smear of it. As the smear guided my eyes downward, I also caught a glimpse of a chunk on the baseboard behind the trash can. Obviously Bradley had used his finger to try to emancipate the fastened feces, and simply trying to shake it off his finger did not prove effective. After I explained that poop on the walls was unacceptable, I introduced the word "dingleberry" into his vocabulary and exited the room to retrieve a wipe for the wall and baseboard. As I walked away I heard Bradley penitently say, "Sorr-rry. Sorry for getting poop on the wall."

The fake farting contagion has advanced itself into the innocence of our poor 18 month old Wendy. Tonight I witnessed her assume the partial squat position with her rear appearing to be aimed at something or someone, possibly a brother or sister, and remove the pacifier from her mouth. She then attempted to use her mouth to imitate the classic whooppee cusion reverberation. I gave her a score of about a 6. With some teeth and practice she will be up to par with her siblings. Oh, she so ignorantly looks up to them!

I wonder how many once-soggy, crusted Cheerios I have dislodged from my tiled kitchen floor with my big toe?

Watching a movie.

Loose Teeth (Emily)

New Teeth (Wendy)

I don't think my kids have quite caught on to the the Lincoln Log concept yet. Today they piled an assortment of Lincoln Logs in the middle of the room and played "campfire."

Our kids are experiencing a hopefully brief obsession with bodily functions. Everything is fart this, fart that, burp this, burp that, stinky butt, pull my finger, and the new expletive is "poopy diaper." Understandingly so, they are extremely offended when called a "poopy diaper." Today Bradley was playing pooping matchbox cars and and I firmly stated, "Stop talking that way. It isn't funny!" He looked up at me, seemingly unaffected by my disapproval, and confidently replied, "It's funny to us." and resumed his playing.

Operation "Oven Escape"

Evidence of an unsupervised 18 month old older sister. But Jason takes it all in stride.