ten things I won't be saying any time soon

1. I love it when Danny wakes up before the sun comes up.

2. I'm so sad that summer is almost over. So, so sad.

3. I can't wait to read Mockingjay!

4. I wish we would have camped out in the parking lot for the Chick-fil-A grand opening like all those other people we saw on Wednesday morning. I hate missing out on momentous occasions in the fast food world.

5. Potty training is a blast!

6. I'd be happier if I had more shirts to iron.

7. I have way too much free time.

8. I'm so glad I get to wash all the dirty dishes by hand several times a day.

9. I love listening to the sound of my husband's sweet snoring every night as I'm trying to fall asleep.

10. I like my gray hair. It brings out the green in my eyes.


Is there anything you won't be saying any time soon?

star wars blueberry pie

I had this great idea to start a cooking class with Danny (and maybe Cate if she could keep her fingers out of the flour...she likes to eat it). Either that little boy of mine is hungry all the time for sweets or just really interested in baking. He talks to me almost every day about what we should bake. Cookies, pie, cupcakes, birthday cake. I'd love to indulge him every day but alas, my will power is not strong enough to resist eating freshly baked cookies, pies and cakes every single day.

Danny's most recent request was to bake some doodleberry pie. Obviously, we didn't have any doodleberries handy. We went to Costco and bought blueberries instead. He said that would be fine. I knew pie would be ok to bake because I don't really like pie. It wouldn't be much of a temptation to eat the whole thing. Plus, I've never baked a pie from scratch. We both win. He gets pie. I get to stop saying I've never baked a pie from scratch before (unless you count pudding pie with graham cracker crust...but I don't think that counts).

The plan was originally to have him "help" me bake the pie (that's why I was going to call it cooking class). Instead, I waited until this was happening...


and then baked it myself. I have no patience. It was a long morning. I was tired. The blueberries had been sitting in the fridge for almost a week. I just did it myself. I'm ok with that. So was Danny when he woke up and saw what I had done while he was sleeping.



I tried to make the pie extra special by using my Star Wars cookie cutters and turned it into Star Wars blueberry pie. Danny loved it. He wouldn't eat any of it of course. But he thought it looked good.

I used Pioneer Woman's pie crust recipe and her mom's recipe for blueberry pie. They were both berry easy and berry yummy. Next time I'll use way more sugar though. It wasn't sweet enough for my sweet tooth. And I didn't even have vanilla ice cream. What a shame.

I'm thinking the next time I hold a session of cooking class, I should actually let Danny in the kitchen with me.

Just a thought.

harry had a wittle wam

My little boy has been singing this song for the past few days.


♫ Harry had a wittle wam
wittle wam
wittle wam
Harry had a wittle wam
and dat wittle wam ate ham. ♫


Someone has been teaching him some new songs.
It certainly wasn't me.

Scooby-Doo?
Wubbzy?
Max & Ruby?
Yoda?

Who was it?

blogs I read: tony's favorite casserole

My bro-in-law has a blog.

Tony's Favorite Casserole

Go check it out.

You might learn something.

You'll probably laugh.

Possibly out loud.

It's up to you.

If you do stop by his blog, for heaven's sake leave a comment.

Who doesn't like comments?

I do. You do. He does too.

Heck, if you like him enough you could even follow him.

It's up to you.

Ok. Now go.

There's lots in store for you there.

how to lie with numbers
an in-depth look at underwear
personality disorders
a recipe for that favorite casserole
and so much more.

Ok. Now you can go.

Go.

Read.

Learn.

Laugh.

Comment.

And then laugh again.

Or not.

It's up to you.


(Just the laughing again part. You really should go and read.)

school's starting without me

my first students

Twelve years ago they were starting second grade.
This year they're starting their second year of college.

I feel old.

I miss having a classroom this time of year.
I miss getting my bulletin boards ready.
I miss lining up the desks in straight rows.
I miss the Word Wall and the Book Nook.
I miss my color coordinated file folders.
I miss the smell of the laminating machine in the teachers' workroom.
I miss new notebooks, new pencils, new markers and new kids.

I don't miss bus duty.
I always hated bus duty.
And recess duty.
I hated that too.

I know I'll stop missing that other stuff in about a week.
I always do.

For tonight, I miss it.

If you see me tomorrow wearing my denim jumper,
cardigan with red apples and ABC's stitched on the front pockets
(with matching red apple earrings)
and sensible shoes,

you'll know why.

goober peas and crawdads

Cate likes to be rocked to sleep. She always has. I'm beginning to fear that she always will.

I'm pretty sure the three weeks she spent in the hospital right after she was born gave her a good start with her love of rocking. We were allowed to hold her during her feedings. Then we'd stay and hold her for a while after the feeding was done. Sometimes we'd rock for an hour, sometimes less. I felt bad hurrying home to take care of Danny so I stayed and rocked her.

I also give some credit to Grama Bama for helping Cate love the rocking. She arrived into town the day Cate came home from the hospital. Most of Grama Bama's time was spent in the chair in the front room rocking that tiny baby. She almost never put her down. And for that, Grama Bama got most of the baby barf (and with a case of reflux, there was a lot of baby barf). Rocking, rocking, rocking for four weeks.

Sometimes I have visions of me holding a 60 pound not-so-baby Cate on my lap and rocking, rocking, rocking until she's almost asleep. Hopefully, she'll be in a big girl bed by then because I don't think I could heave 60 pounds over the crib railing very safely.

I know people like to say stuff like "enjoy it, she won't let you rock her to sleep forever" but I think in her case, she just might. She knows what she wants and she gets it. Plus, we've lived in fear of the night time pukes for 2 years now. Don't do anything to upset that kid at bed time or you're going to see her dinner again, this time all over your lap and shoulder. Let me tell you, it ain't pretty. Actually, ask Dan. He's been her target way more times than me. So for now, she gets rocked to sleep. Or to a state of mostly asleep. Whichever she happens to desire that night.

I've been rocking her at nap time too. Dan spoiled her this summer so I'm just keeping it up. As soon as I sit down with her, she demands, "Gong." That means song. She likes to be sung to. I have three songs on my rotation. They're all Primary songs about Jesus. I figure I might as well teach her while I've got her attention.

Plus, as soon as I sit in that chair, for the life of me, I can't think of anything else to sing. Just those three every time. The fear of the puke that might come overtakes me and I can't think straight. She doesn't protest so that's what she gets. Kids like repetition anyway. I like to think my lullabies are soothing and calm and help her fall asleep faster.

And then there's Dan. Usually it's his pleasure to rock Cate to sleep at night. I take care of Danny and he gets Cate. Dan's choices of soothing, calm lullabies are slightly different than mine.

Last night I heard him singing a song to her about goober peas. It's one of the songs in his ukulele book. As if lulling his baby girl to sleep with lyrics about eating boiled peanuts wasn't enough, he moved on to the crawdad song. You know, listening to someone sing about fishing for crawdads always puts me in the mood for sleep. Especially the line about what to do when the lake runs dry (sit on the banks and watch the crawdads die). My eyelids are getting droopy just thinking about it.

If it's a really good night, Cate will be treated to a rousing rendition of God Bless America. That's one of Dan's favorites (Danny's too). Patriotism is a sleep aid, right?

Sometimes I think Dan would be happy to teach Cate to rock herself to sleep so he can sit in her room and play the ukulele as he sings his "lullabies."

Goober peas.
Dead crawdads.
God Bless America.

honk shoooo
honk shoooo
honk shoooo

whatever

Grama Bama and Grandpa left us yesterday morning. We miss them. Cate keeps trying to call them on the phone. I think she has called China twice and downloaded some ring tones that I am not going to pay for. (Yes, I know I should not let her play with my phone.)

I've watched Julie & Julia three times in the past two days. I love that movie. Love it.

I'm glad summer is coming to a close. I hate summer. Hate it.

We're going to a Milk Can Dinner tonight with our ward. It's my favorite activity of the year. They cook sausage, cabbage, carrots and potatoes in big milk cans. Then the contents get dumped out into big bins for our eating enjoyment. I love the sausage and carrots. I skip the cabbage. I always feel like we should all go oinking up to the trough when all that yummy food gets dumped out. Oink oink.



Danny had a blast playing catch with Dan and Kris last week. Too bad he gets so pouty if he can't catch the ball. Too bad he's not very good at catching the ball. Looks like Dan's got some practicing to do with his son.

I went to the gym a little before 10:00 last night. I knew I needed to do something to work off the taquitos I ate for dinner (at Cocolito's with Aunt Nancy and Aunt Suzy). I forgot the headphones so the elliptical was out of the question. It's too boring without them. I decided to just walk the track really fast. After one lap I thought I'd try a little running. I usually hate running but I did it anyway. I ran 2 miles without stopping! I'm quite proud of myself. If I had any idea how long it took me, maybe I wouldn't be so proud.

Grama Bama gave me some of these bake even strips. I used them to bake a tres leches cake. I didn't like the cake (it was from a mix) but the strips were fun to use. I think they really did make the cake bake all the way up the sides of the pan. Now maybe I'll give the flag cake another try. I'm thinking a little Veteran's Day celebration will be in order in a few months.

Cate sure loves her sweet Baby Ray. He's four weeks old today.



And now some talk about poop, boogers and puke (because I think this blog would be quite boring without mention of disgusting bodily functions).

Cate pooped on her lala potty last week. Lala is how she says Cinderella. It's a pink potty with a picture of Cinderella, Belle and Sleeping Beauty on the underside of the lid. Hence, the lala potty. I'm proud of her. One step closer to me not buying diapers!

No big booger news to report, other than the fact that Cate enjoys picking them but has not learned that eating them is an option...yet. Neither does Danny though so maybe that day will never come.

Danny reminded us last night at dinner that he puked on the bottom bunk recently. He has a good memory.


Whatever is a lot like potpourri isn't it?

to do list: rain gutter bookshelves

Mr. McScratchington and Danny on the top bunk

Now that Danny has bunk beds in his room, I really want to make (or have someone else make for me) some of these rain gutter bookshelves to go along the wall by his bed. I'm thinking top bunk and bottom bunk.

I have no design sense so I figured books are a good way to fill up space. Plus, the rain gutter bookshelves don't look too complicated.

I think they're quite stylish too (but that's coming from a gal with no design sense so what do I know?).

Anyone want to help me make some?

Or better yet, anyone want to make them for me?

There's a batch of your favorite cookies waiting for you if you do. Or maybe some blueberry, caramel and white chocolate cookies. They look yummy and I need an excuse to bake them.

I'll just add them to my to do list too.

Good grief. It never ends.

at the park

Danny and Cate had some serious play time with their cousins this week.

Dan did his best to relax and enjoy the moment.
Sometimes he just needs to stop worrying about things and live in the moment.
Play with the kids.
Have fun.
Chill.
(or maybe that's me...whatever)

Cate loved spending time with baby Tommy.
Have I mentioned lately that she loves babies?
She does.

How could she not love that face?

Grama Bama and Grandpa seemed to be enjoying time at the park with their favorite grandkids.

Grandpa is happy anywhere, as long as he's got his iPhone of course.
My dad has an iPhone and I do not.
No fair.

Here's the whole gang of cousins (with Aunt Suzy thrown in for support).

J: age 7
R: age 6
K: age 5
D: age 4*
B: age 3
C: age 2
r: age 1
T: age 3 months
S: age 29 (still)


It was a fun morning.
Perfect weather.
Great company.
Let's do it again soon!

How about Thursday?



*So he won't actually be 4 until November. He's been telling people he's 4 since he turned 3. Plus, 4 fit better in the line-up.

flashback on a friday

Dan and me
last century

I'm pretty sure this picture was taken when we were dating.
Or maybe recently engaged?

I don't know.

I'm a bit shocked that we would have hugged each other so closely before marriage though.

Things I love about this picture:

Dan's sweater
the wallpaper
the seashell nightlight
the little doily hat at the top of the calendar
the doll on the wall (behind Dan's shoulder) that was made out of a mop
the ceramic squirrel running down the wall
that my grandma had attached the wallpaper to the outlet cover so that it exactly lined up with the pattern on the wall surrounding it
(the precision was amazing)

last day of preschool

Today's Danny's last day of summer preschool. He'll be home soon. Just like on the first day of preschool, Cate isn't napping.

Ug.

Every time I told Danny that today was his last day, he responded with, "And then I get to go to kindergarten!"

Double ug.

breakfast with grama bama

nine on the ninth

feeding the neighbor's cats first thing in the morning

a teeny tiny piece of banana cake for breakfast
(I'll cycle extra hard in my 5:00 class tomorrow morning as punishment,
as if going to a cycling class at 5:00 in the morning isn't punishment enough)

running around the house
(lots of it today)

the three little piggies

a bath in the middle of the day

sitting on the couch with my feet up
(hello, nap time. I've missed you so.)

enjoying the cloudy sky after naps
(hooray for not being roasted alive in the backyard for a change)

a bee sting on a little boy's ankle

a masterpiece

ten things that made me laugh out loud last week

1. watching my son try to jump in the first picture
2. watching my son try to jump in the next picture
3. watching my son try to jump in the third picture
4. watching my son try to jump in the fourth picture
5. watching my son try to jump in the last picture
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

I got nothin' for those last 5.

It was a slow week for laughing out loud.

I fail to find the humor in sleepless nights, sick and/or cranky kids, puke and other bodily functions that accompany sickness.

Grama Bama and Grandpa will be here tomorrow. I'm hoping they'll bring a few laughs with them.

that's not a popcorn bowl

It's not a dinner bowl anymore either. That's what Danny called it when I brought it to him.

Cate hasn't been feeling her best for the past few days. Danny's decided to stop letting her have all the fun and has joined the club. I'll spare you the details since I am trying to avoid using the word puke. Let's just say I've been doing A LOT of laundry lately.

Cate has a bowl just like that one in her room right now too. She hates to be left out. Sadly, she had to use hers in the wee hours of the morning.

I reminded Danny that he has to try to drink water and eat lots of popsicles so he doesn't have to go to the hospital like he did last year. He said ok, but maybe we should just go to the hospital anyway. I guess he forgot how much he hated it when the nurses wrapped him up really tightly in a blanket so that they could get his IV started without his arms flailing around. I'm pretty sure he was just thinking about the never-ending supply of yellow popsicles they have there.

Right now, Cate is asleep. Danny's watching Clone Wars and trying to keep down the yellow popsicle and piece of toast he just ate. The first yellow popsicle of the morning has already made its reappearance (right into that non-dinner bowl). Dan is asleep. I'm blogging about my kids and puke. My two favorite things.

I'm also praying that the sickness that has befallen our house leaves as quickly as it arrived (and doesn't take me and Dan down with it in the meantime).

Feel free to do the same.

thanks to my mother

With all the mothering I've been doing lately (and by lately I mean the past 3 years, 8 months and 2 weeks), I've come to the conclusion that I haven't thanked my own mother enough for all the mothering she's done for me over the past 37 years, 1 month and 15 days.

So this is for you, Grama Bama. It's all I've got so far. When I reach the point where I'm mothering teenagers, I'll add to the list. It might be a long one. Although, come to think of it, I was a mostly perfect teenager. That list might be kind of short.

Thanks for potty training me.
Thanks for teaching me how to wash my hands.
Thanks for cleaning up my puke.
Thanks for making me take naps.
Thanks for putting me to bed at night.
Thanks for getting up in the middle of the night when I yelled to you that I needed to use the bathroom, even though I was perfectly capable of using the bathroom all by myself.
Thanks for buying stuff for me instead of yourself.
Thanks for brushing my hair.
Thanks for giving me baths.
Thanks for brushing my teeth.
Thanks for teaching me how to brush my own teeth.
Thanks for spending your time doing things for me instead of yourself.
Thanks for filling my cup with milk several times each day.
Thanks for washing, folding and putting away my clothes.
Thanks for letting me put my shoes on the wrong feet.
Thanks for being patient with me while I took them off and put them on the right way, even though that's what you told me to do in the first place and I should have just listened to you instead of saying No! Me first! over and over again.
Thanks for helping me get dressed.
Thanks for teaching me how to dress myself.
Thanks for sitting outside with me while I played even though it was blazing hot, you had mountains of laundry to fold and there were at least three other places you'd rather be.
Thanks for changing my diapers.
Thanks for feeding me.
Thanks for teaching me how to feed myself.
Thanks for making dinner for me.
Thanks for cleaning up my messes after dinner.
Thanks for clipping my fingernails.
Thanks for clipping my toenails.
Thanks for wiping my snotty nose, even though it probably made you gag.
Thanks for giving me a bath at 6:30 in the morning after I puked in the middle of the night and didn't even wake up and then the puke dried on my neck, chin, hair and Star Wars pillowcase.

And most of all, thanks for loving my babies as much as I do.




p.s. A few of those are ones I'm really hoping to hear Danny and Cate saying to me some day soon.

I got nothin'

That's how I'm feeling about the blog stuff lately. I've spent the past week worrying about the lesson I taught in church today. There hasn't been room in my brain for much else.

Grama Bama went home on Wednesday.

I can't even remember what happened on Thursday.

I attended a funeral on Friday.

Yesterday I worried about my lesson the majority of the day. I took a break to bake some zucchini bread. That's about it.

I have 59 posts in my drafts folder. There they shall sit until I can make my brain recover from the damage summer has done to it.

I wake up early to exercise. Sometimes I come home and Danny is awake. Other days he and Cate are both still sleeping. It's hit and miss. I can't count on morning to give me any quiet time to think or write. Not sure I'd be able to produce anything interesting anyway.

I could fill up space with cute pictures of my kids, but I'm not sure I took very many of those this week.

Maybe nap time will be good to me tomorrow afternoon. Maybe I won't feel guilty if I decide to sit in a chair and complete one of those 59 posts instead of folding laundry or cleaning a bathroom or two. We'll see.

I pretty much don't have a moment to myself from about 4:00 until the kids go to bed (which is way too late if you ask me...and it's all my fault anyway so I deserve it). I thought I might have a chance tonight but then bath time went long (when they're getting along nicely it's hard to cut it short). Cate got upset about me brushing her teeth. Then she puked on Dan and he had to take a shower. So here I sit at almost 10:00. Blogging about nothing.

I'm going to bed. In an attempt to not be too inspiring tonight, I leave you with this true story of why I am probably in the lead for the Craptastic Mother of the Year Award.

I was in the car with Danny this week. I can't remember where we were going. All I know is that it was hot and I was tired, frustrated and ready for the day to be over.

From the backseat I heard, "Mama?" and I replied with a heavy sigh and a kind of grouchy "What, Danny?"

"Never mind."

Then in a little less grouchy tone of voice I said, "What do you need, Danny?"

"Nothing. I was gonna say I wuv you but now I'm not."

See?

Craptastic.