Sausage for breakfast is a treat at our house. This morning was one of those lucky mornings. As the kids got up to leave afterwards, Brent noticed a sausage slice left on Camille's plate.
"Camille are you going to eat that?" he asks (as he's popping it in his mouth and chewing).
"No. There was a hair on it."
HA!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
In Loving Memory (Of Brent's Hair)
Brent got an email last night. It was a complaint from his mother. She said,
"Please put the photo back on that we saw on your blog. We were really enjoying it and suddenly it was gone."
If you missed Brent's yearbook yourself photo, Sorry,. . . I guess you need to keep up a little better. :)
It was on here for 24 hours! (It was Brent's current face with a very big and bad doo. I thought it was hilarious at first, but then decided after blog surfing that I just couldn't take the hideousness of the front page of my blog anymore, and I hit the delete button on the whole post.)
Brent's mom really hates that her little boy has gone bald. A couple years after we were married it was getting so thin up top that we just bit the bullet and buzzed it all.
His mother was so disappointed in us. Every time she saw a fresh haircut she told him how ugly he looked. It was like she thought buzzing it was causing the baldness rather than the other way around -. . He's bald, so we are buzzing it. Like as if we hadn't been buzzing it he would have a lovely full head of hair! Or at least a good ol' man respectable comb over.
We used to not have our own set of clippers so we would always go up the hill to her house and cut hair in her utility room. One time while she was gone, we were there buzzing away. It had been way too long and I cut off tons of hair and left it all in her utility room trash.
Later that afternoon we heard her car pass by and head up the hill. About an hour later we heard her car come back down and stop outside our back door. The car was still running when Brent ran out to see what was up.
She was agitated, and wanted to know if we had seen any one's car going up to her house earlier that day.
"I think a Mexican has been up there inside the house," she insisted.
"What, in the house? Why's that, Mom? "
She reached in her purse and pulled out an envelope. It was filled with black hair.
She was driving around with the evidence searching for the culprit.
Brent laughed and told her it was his hair.
"No way Brent. It's way too dark and way too much for your head. Look at it!" shaking the envelope at him.
We finally calmed the old lady down enough to send her back up the hill.
Nice to know that you read our blog MamaJo. Hope you don't mind us bringing up this old story. I just remembered it after reading your email, and wanted to write it down so the memory wasn't lost.
AND Sorry I ruined your little boy's hair. He was pretty handsome till I came along. This ain't no yearbook yourself. It's the real deal from 1988.
"Please put the photo back on that we saw on your blog. We were really enjoying it and suddenly it was gone."
If you missed Brent's yearbook yourself photo, Sorry,. . . I guess you need to keep up a little better. :)
It was on here for 24 hours! (It was Brent's current face with a very big and bad doo. I thought it was hilarious at first, but then decided after blog surfing that I just couldn't take the hideousness of the front page of my blog anymore, and I hit the delete button on the whole post.)
Brent's mom really hates that her little boy has gone bald. A couple years after we were married it was getting so thin up top that we just bit the bullet and buzzed it all.
His mother was so disappointed in us. Every time she saw a fresh haircut she told him how ugly he looked. It was like she thought buzzing it was causing the baldness rather than the other way around -. . He's bald, so we are buzzing it. Like as if we hadn't been buzzing it he would have a lovely full head of hair! Or at least a good ol' man respectable comb over.
We used to not have our own set of clippers so we would always go up the hill to her house and cut hair in her utility room. One time while she was gone, we were there buzzing away. It had been way too long and I cut off tons of hair and left it all in her utility room trash.
Later that afternoon we heard her car pass by and head up the hill. About an hour later we heard her car come back down and stop outside our back door. The car was still running when Brent ran out to see what was up.
She was agitated, and wanted to know if we had seen any one's car going up to her house earlier that day.
"I think a Mexican has been up there inside the house," she insisted.
"What, in the house? Why's that, Mom? "
She reached in her purse and pulled out an envelope. It was filled with black hair.
She was driving around with the evidence searching for the culprit.
Brent laughed and told her it was his hair.
"No way Brent. It's way too dark and way too much for your head. Look at it!" shaking the envelope at him.
We finally calmed the old lady down enough to send her back up the hill.
Nice to know that you read our blog MamaJo. Hope you don't mind us bringing up this old story. I just remembered it after reading your email, and wanted to write it down so the memory wasn't lost.
AND Sorry I ruined your little boy's hair. He was pretty handsome till I came along. This ain't no yearbook yourself. It's the real deal from 1988.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Savannah always is saying she wants "a new look". So I cut her bangs, and she regretted that decision.Last week she talked me into using some of my permanent hair dye on her for another new look. She loves it. She has refused to wash it the last 5 days because she doesn't want it to wash out.
Her teacher apparently was appalled. Savannah said she told her that she couldn't believe her mother let her dye her hair.
Kennon said the whole school was talking about it and all the girls in her class can't understand why Savannah can dye her hair but Kennon can't get her ears pierced. Whatever!
She has brown eyes, why not brown hair? It is permanent, but believe me it washes out so quickly.
She just needed something fun to get her through the bad bang months ahead.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Yeah for Marcus! . . .and Caroline
Caroline and I were visiting teaching yesterday. The nice old lady had cut up some Honey Crisp apples for us to enjoy while we visited. I was seriously enjoying her money well spent. I am used to choking down the garbage apples I can afford from Aldi's (A.K.A Oldi's).
I started breaking off tiny pieces and feeding them to my 6.5 month old Marcus. Caroline was talking to him and started hollering, "Mom, Marcus has a tooth!" I told her she was wrong and reached in and grabbed a little tooth size piece of apple to show her. In the process my finger brushed his lower gums and guess what?
By coincidence he actually does have his first tooth. It is all the way through. Caroline discovered it quite by accident.
And I can't figure it out because he has been his happiest ever the last 2-3 weeks and has completely stopped the crying that we put up with so much in earlier months. So much for TEETHING!
And he is also sitting, waving bye bye, doing push ups and scooting. He gets all over the room now, without actually crawling yet. I should be reporting that next week. AND this should probably all be in my bragging section. Sorry!
Marcus is so wonderful. It truly is a miracle that this mother of girls has a son.
Mopeds are dangerous. . and so is his latest craze - Wrestling
(Click on picture to see the bumper sticker. This car was right in front of us when we went through a toll last summer.)Brent needs to be more careful.
Earlier in the month he was cruising his puch through the school parking lot and was hit by a car. They didn't exchange info. It was her fault but he assured her that he felt fine. Even his left shoulder that left a large dent in her car wasn't too sore. I am glad he was nice to her. It could've been me and I appreciate mercy when it comes to driving.
Then yesterday he was at wrestling practice. It's been over 20 years since he was one of the top dogs of the WA state high school meets so he is happy to be back on the mat. This is held after class and is just a bunch of guys that get all sweaty and bloody and hold each other down till they give you the signal. He tried it on me and it seems like the signal is -Three taps on your chest that mean, "Please, let go of my throat. I am about to pass out. "
So far our husbands have just come home dripping with lots of sweat and a little blood. But yesterday Brent popped his pinky finger out of it's socket. It was extremely out of joint and crazy looking, pointing straight back at the middle knuckle. He showed it to his wrestling buddy, then snapped it right back in and continued wrestling. A couple minutes later it dislocated again.
This morning it was swollen and purple. He might need to find some other way to burn off the calories. And he better take better care of those digits or he may lose his best client/patient.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Ballet
I have had way too many "Brent" posts lately so here is one that isn't.
Earlier I mentioned that I am trying to keep up with my oldest. So I play piano and help her with her math just enough so she won't get any better or smarter than me. Now I am taking it a step farther, or should I say one leap further.
I am taking ballet! My daughters' studio offers a family rate so once you pay so much for them it is only is only $10 more just for me.
The thing is I used to call myself a dancer. I wasn't a cougarette or anything but I've had years of lessons and several glory years on the high school drill/dance team.
But it's been almost 15 years since high school and over 20 since my last ballet class so walking into that studio last week dressed in ballerina clothes was an exhilarating moment. It was like I had just gone back a couple decades. Till I saw my full spandexed glory in the full length mirror and then all 32 years, and 5 kids came right back, of course.
But I wasn't too out of place. There were awesome ballerina figures, but also old wrinkly ladies and other slightly overweight mothers just like me. I made some dancer friends and plie'd, releve'd and fondu'd for a sweaty hour and a half. It is a serious workout and tons of fun. I am totally planning on regaining the strength, flexibility, and grace of my youth.
I would highly recommend adult ballet for all you frumpy mothers out there who want to do something just for yourself, like we used to do. My favorite part is when we are done with barre work and we all do leaps, kicks and dance across the floor. I am hooked.
AND Thank you Brent for the encouragement. He is the one who suggested I sign up for the class.
Earlier I mentioned that I am trying to keep up with my oldest. So I play piano and help her with her math just enough so she won't get any better or smarter than me. Now I am taking it a step farther, or should I say one leap further.
I am taking ballet! My daughters' studio offers a family rate so once you pay so much for them it is only is only $10 more just for me.
The thing is I used to call myself a dancer. I wasn't a cougarette or anything but I've had years of lessons and several glory years on the high school drill/dance team.
But it's been almost 15 years since high school and over 20 since my last ballet class so walking into that studio last week dressed in ballerina clothes was an exhilarating moment. It was like I had just gone back a couple decades. Till I saw my full spandexed glory in the full length mirror and then all 32 years, and 5 kids came right back, of course.
But I wasn't too out of place. There were awesome ballerina figures, but also old wrinkly ladies and other slightly overweight mothers just like me. I made some dancer friends and plie'd, releve'd and fondu'd for a sweaty hour and a half. It is a serious workout and tons of fun. I am totally planning on regaining the strength, flexibility, and grace of my youth.
I would highly recommend adult ballet for all you frumpy mothers out there who want to do something just for yourself, like we used to do. My favorite part is when we are done with barre work and we all do leaps, kicks and dance across the floor. I am hooked.
AND Thank you Brent for the encouragement. He is the one who suggested I sign up for the class.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I trust you
Whenever Brent cuts or highlights my hair, he has a hard time keeping his negative thoughts to himself.
"Dang it!" "Oh no!" "What?"
All part of the free haircuts.
I never have a mirror handy to see what grave errors have been made, so I just sit there wondering why I take these risks. They all turn out pretty good in the end, though so I wish he would keep a lid on his frusterations. Brent is a perfectionist and also some what of a loud mouth and I have learned that this is just the way he works. So I try not to put much stock in his outbursts.
But that's color, scizzors, just hair. . . . nothing painful. What about drills and teeth?
Now I am officially his dental patient/guinea pig and I found out it is a pretty much the same thing. He was so happy to find 5 cavities in my mouth this fall. He could use the work and why not have a little date with the wifey at the same time?
We had one of those choice dates this morning. Once he got the rubber dam in place and the drill going, it wasn't long before I heard the first "Oh, No!" And then a couple "No Ways!" and even one"You got to be kidding me?".
And I hate not being permitted to talk! There are so many things that need to be said at the dentist. . . at least when it is Brent.
A couple weeks ago he worked on me and I had to go to the bathroom. I can't hold it for 3 hours! Every time I tried to tell him though he couldn't quite understand me. I finally ran off out the door with the rubber dam strapped on my face. When I saw myself in the bathroom mirror I felt like I was looking at Joker with my strapped on smile. He told me later that it would've been real simple to take off the frame and I could've just shoved the dam in my mouth if I just would've let him know.
I also really needed to communicate on hour 3 when the antiseptic wore off and I was jumping every time he blew that freezing cold air in my mouth.
So this time I was smarter and prepared. Before the rubber dam was in place I had a pen and paper on my lap. I started out scribbling things like "HURRY!" then before long "How much LONGER?" and a couple"OW!'s" and I got a second shot and made it through the appointment without the agony that I usually experience the last hour in the dental school. Everything takes SOOOOO long there because 1/2 the time you are sitting there waiting for an instructor to check and let you proceed and meanwhile my jaw is stuck open and time is ticking away and those shots don't last forever!
So I am a pretty lucky lady with a live in dentist/hairdresser. And he is the pretty lucky man with a wife willing to give him plenty of practice on his manual dexterity skills.
Everyone seems so suprised when they find out that Brent is actually my hairdresser. But no one bats an eye about me being brave enough to let him drill holes in my teeth??? I don't get it?
"Dang it!" "Oh no!" "What?"
All part of the free haircuts.
I never have a mirror handy to see what grave errors have been made, so I just sit there wondering why I take these risks. They all turn out pretty good in the end, though so I wish he would keep a lid on his frusterations. Brent is a perfectionist and also some what of a loud mouth and I have learned that this is just the way he works. So I try not to put much stock in his outbursts.
But that's color, scizzors, just hair. . . . nothing painful. What about drills and teeth?
Now I am officially his dental patient/guinea pig and I found out it is a pretty much the same thing. He was so happy to find 5 cavities in my mouth this fall. He could use the work and why not have a little date with the wifey at the same time?
We had one of those choice dates this morning. Once he got the rubber dam in place and the drill going, it wasn't long before I heard the first "Oh, No!" And then a couple "No Ways!" and even one"You got to be kidding me?".
And I hate not being permitted to talk! There are so many things that need to be said at the dentist. . . at least when it is Brent.
A couple weeks ago he worked on me and I had to go to the bathroom. I can't hold it for 3 hours! Every time I tried to tell him though he couldn't quite understand me. I finally ran off out the door with the rubber dam strapped on my face. When I saw myself in the bathroom mirror I felt like I was looking at Joker with my strapped on smile. He told me later that it would've been real simple to take off the frame and I could've just shoved the dam in my mouth if I just would've let him know.
I also really needed to communicate on hour 3 when the antiseptic wore off and I was jumping every time he blew that freezing cold air in my mouth.
So this time I was smarter and prepared. Before the rubber dam was in place I had a pen and paper on my lap. I started out scribbling things like "HURRY!" then before long "How much LONGER?" and a couple"OW!'s" and I got a second shot and made it through the appointment without the agony that I usually experience the last hour in the dental school. Everything takes SOOOOO long there because 1/2 the time you are sitting there waiting for an instructor to check and let you proceed and meanwhile my jaw is stuck open and time is ticking away and those shots don't last forever!
So I am a pretty lucky lady with a live in dentist/hairdresser. And he is the pretty lucky man with a wife willing to give him plenty of practice on his manual dexterity skills.
Everyone seems so suprised when they find out that Brent is actually my hairdresser. But no one bats an eye about me being brave enough to let him drill holes in my teeth??? I don't get it?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
All in his own due time
Brent is so handy. . . But he hates to be nagged about his wife needing a handyman. He has to think of it and get started completely on his own. He does lots of stuff around here but HE HAS TO THINK OF IT, Dang it!
A few Saturdays ago I risked his anger and mentioned that I had a LIST for him. Just 3 little jobs that needed doing that Saturday. I hadn't given him a list all summer and I just lost my head for a minute and wrote these three little things down and passed it over to him.
Brent does not like honey do lists. Kennon overheard him telling me then, "I don't like to be told what to do." This in NOT something you should ever say in front of your children, for obvious reasons.
"OH REALLY, Well I don't like being told what to do either, DAD!"
A very good point, if you ask me.
Tonight I mentioned hanging some blinds twice and by some miracle he went in there muttering and started hanging them up in Kennon's room. By the time he was done, he was done muttering and more in the kind of mood I like to see around here. Completely on his own accord now, he continued checking off my mental list by first washing off the egg that has been on the side of our house since last Halloween when we got tricked since we left for a party and weren't there for treats, I guess. We were coming up on the one year anniversary and it seemed like the natural time to get around to it.
And Then he tipped our couch upside down and took it apart at the seams. A couple months ago he sat down and we all heard a snap. Ever since then we feel like we have half a couch since neither of us can stand to sit on that sunk-in section.
Brent can fix anything so I had hinted that he should just take a look inside and see what he could do. I also wanted it opened up for another reason. We made the mistake of getting a couch that has irremovable cushions. Not only that but it also has remote size gaps all along your back to swallow up all the remotes and anything else that gets left behind. I discovered the problem a couple months ago when something slipped out of my hands and disappeared. After I couldn't get it I reached my hands along the bottom and could feel tons of stuff down in there. . . A lot more than just crumbs. Things that felt like books, keys, remotes, brushes, barrettes and toys. I was able to recover a few trinkets with some great difficulty but had to give up reaching it all.
But now I hate wondering what I am sitting on.
Well he was able to repair the brake AND recover some lost items tonight. One of these was Kennon's cell phone.
With the exception of the mother and the 6 month old all the Casper's have a cell phone. Kennon keeps hers fully charged and sets it to ring so she can answer her "calls" every ten minutes, Especially when we are in public. We will be in a standing in Target checkout, and Kennon gets a call. She pulls it out of her purse, (she always is carrying her purse) and then carries on a complete conversation.
"Hi, . . . yeah, I am actually shopping at Target right now"
"Yeah"
"Okay, I think that should be just fine."
"Well I will call you back, Bye"
Kennon has always liked to play make believe but I think this is really carrying it a bit far. AND I sure hope that people don't judge me and think that this is for real when really it is just a . . .
TOY. No service!
But who needs minutes? It has ring tones . . . takes pictures AND video and of course VIDEO GAMES!
Caroline, Savannah, and Camille all have their own too. The best gifts for our girls ever and they were all free. When Brent got a new one he gave Kennon his old one, and then Brent's friend Dave Cundick, A.K.A the Orange Man, (Camille once asked us if the orange man was coming over. He has strawberry blond hair) felt pity on our other girls and donated three old but very sweet cellphones. I have been tripping over cell phone chargers ever since. That is just one more thing that we really don't have room for in this 200 square ft. living/dining/piano/family/ballet/gymnasium room.
But Kennon's is the only that is set to ring. About a month ago it all stopped and then she started complaining out loud all the time, "I can't find my charger anywhere" and then a dirty look would be thrown over my way. I am usually the guilty one when it comes to cleaning up clutter but she had to apologize when she found out I was innocent of both stealing the charger and the cellphone. Her girlfriend's mother called to let us know that she had found her cellphone charger plugged in at her house recently.
So the blinds are hung, the egg is scraped away, and the couch and the cellphone are back in business. Life is good.
A few Saturdays ago I risked his anger and mentioned that I had a LIST for him. Just 3 little jobs that needed doing that Saturday. I hadn't given him a list all summer and I just lost my head for a minute and wrote these three little things down and passed it over to him.
Brent does not like honey do lists. Kennon overheard him telling me then, "I don't like to be told what to do." This in NOT something you should ever say in front of your children, for obvious reasons.
"OH REALLY, Well I don't like being told what to do either, DAD!"
A very good point, if you ask me.
Tonight I mentioned hanging some blinds twice and by some miracle he went in there muttering and started hanging them up in Kennon's room. By the time he was done, he was done muttering and more in the kind of mood I like to see around here. Completely on his own accord now, he continued checking off my mental list by first washing off the egg that has been on the side of our house since last Halloween when we got tricked since we left for a party and weren't there for treats, I guess. We were coming up on the one year anniversary and it seemed like the natural time to get around to it.
And Then he tipped our couch upside down and took it apart at the seams. A couple months ago he sat down and we all heard a snap. Ever since then we feel like we have half a couch since neither of us can stand to sit on that sunk-in section.
Brent can fix anything so I had hinted that he should just take a look inside and see what he could do. I also wanted it opened up for another reason. We made the mistake of getting a couch that has irremovable cushions. Not only that but it also has remote size gaps all along your back to swallow up all the remotes and anything else that gets left behind. I discovered the problem a couple months ago when something slipped out of my hands and disappeared. After I couldn't get it I reached my hands along the bottom and could feel tons of stuff down in there. . . A lot more than just crumbs. Things that felt like books, keys, remotes, brushes, barrettes and toys. I was able to recover a few trinkets with some great difficulty but had to give up reaching it all.
But now I hate wondering what I am sitting on.
Well he was able to repair the brake AND recover some lost items tonight. One of these was Kennon's cell phone.
With the exception of the mother and the 6 month old all the Casper's have a cell phone. Kennon keeps hers fully charged and sets it to ring so she can answer her "calls" every ten minutes, Especially when we are in public. We will be in a standing in Target checkout, and Kennon gets a call. She pulls it out of her purse, (she always is carrying her purse) and then carries on a complete conversation.
"Hi, . . . yeah, I am actually shopping at Target right now"
"Yeah"
"Okay, I think that should be just fine."
"Well I will call you back, Bye"
Kennon has always liked to play make believe but I think this is really carrying it a bit far. AND I sure hope that people don't judge me and think that this is for real when really it is just a . . .
TOY. No service!
But who needs minutes? It has ring tones . . . takes pictures AND video and of course VIDEO GAMES!
Caroline, Savannah, and Camille all have their own too. The best gifts for our girls ever and they were all free. When Brent got a new one he gave Kennon his old one, and then Brent's friend Dave Cundick, A.K.A the Orange Man, (Camille once asked us if the orange man was coming over. He has strawberry blond hair) felt pity on our other girls and donated three old but very sweet cellphones. I have been tripping over cell phone chargers ever since. That is just one more thing that we really don't have room for in this 200 square ft. living/dining/piano/family/ballet/gymnasium room.
But Kennon's is the only that is set to ring. About a month ago it all stopped and then she started complaining out loud all the time, "I can't find my charger anywhere" and then a dirty look would be thrown over my way. I am usually the guilty one when it comes to cleaning up clutter but she had to apologize when she found out I was innocent of both stealing the charger and the cellphone. Her girlfriend's mother called to let us know that she had found her cellphone charger plugged in at her house recently.
So the blinds are hung, the egg is scraped away, and the couch and the cellphone are back in business. Life is good.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sittin' up with the big boys
Can you tell which one is Brent's son?
Kennon spent at least an hour a day trying to get this kid to sit up on his own. Thanks to her efforts, he's finally getting the hang of it.
School kids
My Very Cool First Day After School Snacks:Cinnamon and Sugar Pretzels
3rd year dental student -5th grader- 4th grader - 1st grader -
and my sweet Caroline
I made Kennon a tag for a joke. She suprised me and wore it the whole school day!
On the other hand, Savannah wouldn't even hold up her number 4, because some kids were walking by just then.
The Winner of the Kindergarten "Good Citizen" Award takes on 1st grade
Caroline doesn't need a new teacher, just yet. She has mommy.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Are you smarter than a fifth grader?
Would any of you admit that you find the show a little bit of an eye opener? In terms of waking up to all you have really forgotten and how dumb you truly have become. (I'm not taking any replies from young recent grad friends. You have to be at least 30 and have spent a significant portion of your 20's not at the university but stuck on a farm in a trailer down by the river to relate to me and answer that question).
I don't watch the show too often. Maybe that's because I get an increasing dose of "How Dumb have you Become?" every night when I struggle through assisting my own fifth grader with her hour of homework. The spelling I can brag about. Always been a better than average speller. Social studies (always my best subject) is still vaguely familiar. But my math and science skills have slipped back to the level of a 4th grader! Fifth grade and above is all gone. To be truthful I barely survived the required math classes in college and since graduating with my AA I've completely cast the knowledge aside. I have a calculator and Brent for the rest. It is sad, I know but somehow I have managed just fine and have a great quality of life without it. Of course the thought of my kids not mastering all this stuff is horrifying to me (which makes me rethink the whole thing about me being fine without it.)
So I figure I will approach 5th grade math and science like I did when I put Kennon in piano lessons several years ago. I used to play but quit before I got any good and completely lost the talent. So my goal was just to always keep up with her. As long as I can keep up with my 5th, 6th, 7th and on up grader, we will both be talented pianists and mathematicians some day.
So far I am hanging on musically (but barely), and I know that I am going to have to crack a math textbook if I want to keep up with her now and that is something I've always hated to do. Has to be done though. Yesterday she brought home her last math assignment that I checked. It was filled with red checks and circles. Oops. I am so sorry sweetie.
So last night as I helped her I had the calculator right there with me and made sure we were getting all the right answers. I think it is time to tackle math again with a fresh outlook. Maybe after all these years I might actually enjoy division, algebra and geometry.
The other thing that I wanted to write about is how crazy it is at our house in the after school hours. Monday is FHE, and so that is always busy. Tuesday is ballet and piano and we get home late. Wednesday I was in Brent's dental chair all afternoon and didn't get home till 5. Yesterday I was home but it still didn't go much better. We had signed up to feed the elders, but even though I thought I was organized for it, I still was stuck in the kitchen doing last minute stuff for too much time.
Kennon gets huffy if I don't care enough about her to sit near by for the entire homework session and also piano practice. I usually make it for about 10 minutes total. Camille loves to read to me and show me her stuff from the day. Savannah wants to hold cooking classes in our kitchen, since she has decided that is the only way she can get to eat what she wants. And all this while taking care of a nursing baby, listening to the constant chatter of Caroline, preparing dinner, and getting ready for Dad to come home. The girls help with their specific chores. We are all a part of "Team Casper" , but I have never figured out a way that a mother doesn't have to run around like mad from bus time to bedtime.
I am sure that blogging right now while they are at school is not going to help matters. So that's why I am quitting and heading into the kitchen to get an early start on dinner so we can have a good start on our weekend.
I don't watch the show too often. Maybe that's because I get an increasing dose of "How Dumb have you Become?" every night when I struggle through assisting my own fifth grader with her hour of homework. The spelling I can brag about. Always been a better than average speller. Social studies (always my best subject) is still vaguely familiar. But my math and science skills have slipped back to the level of a 4th grader! Fifth grade and above is all gone. To be truthful I barely survived the required math classes in college and since graduating with my AA I've completely cast the knowledge aside. I have a calculator and Brent for the rest. It is sad, I know but somehow I have managed just fine and have a great quality of life without it. Of course the thought of my kids not mastering all this stuff is horrifying to me (which makes me rethink the whole thing about me being fine without it.)
So I figure I will approach 5th grade math and science like I did when I put Kennon in piano lessons several years ago. I used to play but quit before I got any good and completely lost the talent. So my goal was just to always keep up with her. As long as I can keep up with my 5th, 6th, 7th and on up grader, we will both be talented pianists and mathematicians some day.
So far I am hanging on musically (but barely), and I know that I am going to have to crack a math textbook if I want to keep up with her now and that is something I've always hated to do. Has to be done though. Yesterday she brought home her last math assignment that I checked. It was filled with red checks and circles. Oops. I am so sorry sweetie.
So last night as I helped her I had the calculator right there with me and made sure we were getting all the right answers. I think it is time to tackle math again with a fresh outlook. Maybe after all these years I might actually enjoy division, algebra and geometry.
The other thing that I wanted to write about is how crazy it is at our house in the after school hours. Monday is FHE, and so that is always busy. Tuesday is ballet and piano and we get home late. Wednesday I was in Brent's dental chair all afternoon and didn't get home till 5. Yesterday I was home but it still didn't go much better. We had signed up to feed the elders, but even though I thought I was organized for it, I still was stuck in the kitchen doing last minute stuff for too much time.
Kennon gets huffy if I don't care enough about her to sit near by for the entire homework session and also piano practice. I usually make it for about 10 minutes total. Camille loves to read to me and show me her stuff from the day. Savannah wants to hold cooking classes in our kitchen, since she has decided that is the only way she can get to eat what she wants. And all this while taking care of a nursing baby, listening to the constant chatter of Caroline, preparing dinner, and getting ready for Dad to come home. The girls help with their specific chores. We are all a part of "Team Casper" , but I have never figured out a way that a mother doesn't have to run around like mad from bus time to bedtime.
I am sure that blogging right now while they are at school is not going to help matters. So that's why I am quitting and heading into the kitchen to get an early start on dinner so we can have a good start on our weekend.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Are you my mother?
How would I ever handle 5 kids without the oldest two? Having a baby this time around has been so different. . . and so awesome. I love my two babysitters!
"Savannah, Take care of Marcus!"
"Kennon, Change Marcus's diaper!"
Does Marcus even know who his mother is? Is it the one who feeds him milk or the ones who teach him to sit up? . . . and also several other tricks like this one. . . that I learned about for the first time when I found this picture on our camera! "GIRLS. . . !"
A "Who" Do
I cut Savannah's bangs earlier this summer after being begged repeatedly.
Unfortunately she decided afterwards that she hates bangs and absolutely hates the fact that now she has to DO HER HAIR.
Fortunately, for the first time ever she has started fixing her own hair, just to get the bangs out of her face.
Unfortunately her choice of styles has resulted in being labeled a "Who" by Kennon and other random people.
Fortunately, the girl has way too much confidence to listen to style advice from anyone. She likes her "Who Hairdo" and wears it with pride. She is way too fabulous to listen to ANYONE.
Our girls VERY LAST yard sale
We tried to make the best of the complete lack of neighborhood support of the yard sale run by our children. I just couldn't stand to let them go the whole day with no customers. I threw a quick disguise together and did a little light shopping after a couple very slow hours, but no one was fooled. Our second customer of the day however stole the show (and my best wig).
Last days of summer
Unless we are away on vacation, it seems like the majority of each of my days is spent running around making futile efforts to remedy an overcrowded, overfilled, messy house. Brent watches me scurrying around all the time, and listens to me complain about it even more. Since school starts again for the kids this week, it seemed like a good time to address this complaining and present a solution. He thinks there is one for everything.
He gathered all the family around on a blanket in the backyard tonight for a family meeting. It was time for us to join "Team CASPER". Then we huddled for a while as Coach Casper laid out the game plan. From now on, Dad and the kids would all be in charge on a weekly rotating basis, of the cleanliness of specific areas of our home. They all received a signing bonus- a very generous $5.
Kennon was completely against Team Casper till coach mentioned magical words like signing bonuses and salary. She then wondered what her mother possibly will be doing now that all the jobs are divied up between them. I'll try to think of something.
I appreciated the fact that this was initiated by my husband completely out of love and concern for his wife. Something that I have come to like about being with Brent is that he always has a plan. I am hoping that this new one will bring about much happiness for me as I am able to live in a cleaner home, have more time for the kids, and ALSO make sure we are raising our city kids to be responsible adults.
I don't rave much about Brent on this blog. Actually I probably don't rave at all. It's so much more fun to make a joke out of him. I hope you all catch the underlying message in all of my posts that I am truly in love with the man. I promise it is always there right beneath the sarcastic surface. I love being on Team Casper, even if I have to put up with him as the coach. And I have loved each adventure that he's given us.
Even here -livin' in our neighborHOOD. I get a lot of comments from ward members like, "Do you feel safe in your neighborhood" or, "Do you really like living in that neighborhood" or invitations to trick or treat in a safe neighborhood. All this leaves little doubt in my mind of what many think of our stomping grounds. So hey if ya gonna live in the hood for 4 years, why not live it up a little? Here is one way to embrace the hood you live in:
This is what creative children do when their parents are too "cheapo" to actually buy them a pool. I used to swim in a cow trough growing up. I thought it was the best ever. Caroline thinks this is the best ever. It's so deep she has to wear a flotation devices. Problem is, it's also too deep for her to climb out. She's peed in it twice in the last two days and has now been banned by her older sister from trash can swimming for a week.
Yesterday we moved a new mattress in and an old mattress out for a lady in our ward. After tossing the old one in the alley by the dumpster, Brent mentioned something about this being the only chance they might ever have to legally jump on the bed. Darnit if we didn't forget the camera so you could see how our kids in the hood jump on the tramp.
Even as I type this I can hear a neighbor 2 doors down at 11:50 pm shouting at her dog in her loudest voice. I can't hear the dog but I can sure hear her shrill, "Shut up you stupid mutt".
He gathered all the family around on a blanket in the backyard tonight for a family meeting. It was time for us to join "Team CASPER". Then we huddled for a while as Coach Casper laid out the game plan. From now on, Dad and the kids would all be in charge on a weekly rotating basis, of the cleanliness of specific areas of our home. They all received a signing bonus- a very generous $5.
Kennon was completely against Team Casper till coach mentioned magical words like signing bonuses and salary. She then wondered what her mother possibly will be doing now that all the jobs are divied up between them. I'll try to think of something.
I appreciated the fact that this was initiated by my husband completely out of love and concern for his wife. Something that I have come to like about being with Brent is that he always has a plan. I am hoping that this new one will bring about much happiness for me as I am able to live in a cleaner home, have more time for the kids, and ALSO make sure we are raising our city kids to be responsible adults.
I don't rave much about Brent on this blog. Actually I probably don't rave at all. It's so much more fun to make a joke out of him. I hope you all catch the underlying message in all of my posts that I am truly in love with the man. I promise it is always there right beneath the sarcastic surface. I love being on Team Casper, even if I have to put up with him as the coach. And I have loved each adventure that he's given us.
Even here -livin' in our neighborHOOD. I get a lot of comments from ward members like, "Do you feel safe in your neighborhood" or, "Do you really like living in that neighborhood" or invitations to trick or treat in a safe neighborhood. All this leaves little doubt in my mind of what many think of our stomping grounds. So hey if ya gonna live in the hood for 4 years, why not live it up a little? Here is one way to embrace the hood you live in:
We ain't only white trash, we swimmin' in the trash.
This is what creative children do when their parents are too "cheapo" to actually buy them a pool. I used to swim in a cow trough growing up. I thought it was the best ever. Caroline thinks this is the best ever. It's so deep she has to wear a flotation devices. Problem is, it's also too deep for her to climb out. She's peed in it twice in the last two days and has now been banned by her older sister from trash can swimming for a week.
Yesterday we moved a new mattress in and an old mattress out for a lady in our ward. After tossing the old one in the alley by the dumpster, Brent mentioned something about this being the only chance they might ever have to legally jump on the bed. Darnit if we didn't forget the camera so you could see how our kids in the hood jump on the tramp.
Even as I type this I can hear a neighbor 2 doors down at 11:50 pm shouting at her dog in her loudest voice. I can't hear the dog but I can sure hear her shrill, "Shut up you stupid mutt".
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