You're Outta There....

Last night during another one of my futile power struggles with my 2 year-old I thought to myself, "It's too bad you can't vote a 2 year-old off the island!"

And then I thought, "That would be awesome!"

Can you imagine how things would change in households with young children if the threat of being voted off became a reality?

Let's throw out the assumption that your main goal as parents is to provide unconditoinal love, shelter and food.  Instead let us ponder the glories of all things being conditional upon children being wonderful.

What's that?  You hate dinner tonight?  You think your taste buds will DIE if you have to eat that?  (Words actually spoken at dinner last night).
                Oh, that's too bad.  You're outta here.  Come back when you are sick of eating out of garbage cans and skinning squirrels and can appreciate my culinary skills.

What?  You pulled all the clothes out of your dresser drawer in search of that one pair of pants you wanted?  And you didn't bother to put them back?  And for good measure you even pulled the actual dresser drawer out and left it sitting on top of the pile of clothing you left laying about? 
            Strip down and put on this garbage bag.  You're outta here.  Come back when you can appreciate the money I spent on those clothes for you!!

Huh?  You think school is boring?  Your homework is making your butt cheeks feel numb?  You have a headache?
      You're outta here.  I'll see you at the McDonald's drive up window later today, Missy.  Come back when you feel like living the life of luxury you once enjoyed was worth doing 5 minutes of homework each night.

What, baby?  You don't know if you want a train show, a snack, a snuggle, a story or a car to play with so you're just going to scream like a banshee while your slave forces run hither and thither looking for whatever token will calm your raging soul?
           You're outta here.  Come back when playing with that twig someone left laying in the road gets boring, and when gnawing on it doesn't stop the growling in your belly, and when you realize cuddling with the neighborhood stray cat only gets you clawed. 

Sigh.

It would be the super, dooper, best thing ever.

The only better thing would be voting MYSELF off the island.......

The Intervention

Cadie Lu celebrated her 8th birthday a week or so ago.

Upon arriving home she promptly began sobbing and cried herself to sleep.  There were two reasons for this.  (1) Her birthday was over {sniffle} and (2) no one had purchased her a new shirt to wear to school the next day {weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth}.

The following Saturday morning was the day of her friend party.  I only let my kids have a friend party at ages 6,8 and 10.  Then they are cut off.  So you can see that friend parties are kind of a big deal to my kids.

The morning of the party was spent with Cadie Lu whining about how "she'd never had a fun Saturday, like, ever, ever, ever...." as I'm cleaning and decorating for her party.

The poor little serf.

When the other children jumped on the bandwagon and began lamenting their privelaged lifestyle I snapped and was forced to do an impromptu intervention.

I called them down to the family room and had them each sit on a separate chair.  Hubs was also called in for this little family happiness session.

It went like this:

Me:  I am going to give you each one minute to come up with a list of five things you do to contribute to our family.  I want five reasons I should keep buying you things, taking you places, and letting you have fun.  Go....

{insert Jeopardy music here}

Me:  Okay, time's up.  Els, you're first.

E:  Um, well, I help with the baby, I do dishes and I am usually good at doing chores you assign me when I'm in the mood.

Me:  Okay, that's three.  Although the 'in the mood' part may only be counted as half.  Any more?

Els:  No....

Me:  J Bear, you're up.

J:  Well, uh, sometimes I put things away for you.......

 {Yep, that was all he could come up with.}

Me:  Cadie Lu?

C:  Uh.....

{Uncomfortable silence.  I'm not entirely sure she knew what the question was.}

C:  Oh, um, I help with the baby.

Me: No, you don't.

C:  Well, I mean to be helping with the baby.

M:  Okay, but that can't be on your list because it isn't something you actually do.  Anything else?

C:  No.

So, friends, to recap.  Els = 2.5;  J Bear = 1 and Cadie was a big fat zippo.

We then went on to list the nearly endless things that Hubs and I do to contribute to the family.  I  pointed out that somehow our life was out of balance because Hubs and I were doing all the working and the kids were having all the fun.

Who knows if this got through to them or not.  All I know is that they cleaned the play area fairly quickly after that.  I may have had the devil's glint in my eye.

I left them with a warning that next time I asked for a list of their contributions to our family they'd better be able to whip some out.

If they can't, well, I'm going on a cruise without them.  And I'll leave the baby in the care of Cadie Lu.  She has, after all, been meaning to help out with him.

Church Fail

Today was one of those days where the universe tried to tell me not to go to church.... but I went anyway.  'Cause I'm trying to set a good example for my children.....

And I live with my mom.

It snowed again last night.  Now that the PC Ward (stands for Parrish Canyon, NOT Politically Correct.  Trust me!) starts at 11:00 a.m. two things have happened.

(1) A super old lady - seriously, she celebrated her 100th birthday this past week - now attends our ward.  She is who I want to be when I grow up.  She lives in the area and just always attends the ward whose assigned time is 11:00.  I've considered doing this now, but something about giving your children consistency... blah, blah, blah.  Do not be surprised when I start cycling through wards in my wrinklehead years, people.  This is your warning.


(2) Finding a parking spot is rough.  No more pick of the sweet spots that you get at 9:00 a.m.  (sigh). 

Combine the parking issue with the snow issue and I ended up parking on the street.  In my pretty shoes and nylons.  (double sigh).  With three kids in tow (TRIPLE sigh, my friends!)

Because I'm lazy I decided that hoofing it down the snow covered streets searching for an open path to gain access to the church building would be a waste of the limited energy that my breakfast of cookies gave me.  So, instead I found what at first appeared to be a small snow bank near the curb.  We headed that way. My plan was to first get myself over the snow bank and then to turn back and offer assistance to the smaller children.  Like they say on planes, airbag on me first, and then on my little peeps.

I was going to do this gracefully, and impressively.  I was going to be an example to the lady who saw where I was going, assumed I had seen an open path, and was following along like a happy puppy.

Sometimes I think I'm taller than I am.  Or that I can do the splits.  But then life has a way of reminding me that I'm stretching to hit 5ft 4 inches, and that if I try to do the splits my legs will crack into two pieces before I even get my thunder thighs apart.

I successfully got J Bubba into my arms.  I also successfully found a foothold for my left foot.  I even successfully raised my right foot to aim for the other side of the snow bank.  What I failed at was bringing my shoes with me from the street to the sidewalk.

I believe we can call it a success that as I stood on the wet, slushy sidewalk in only my nylons, staring at my shoes that were still cradled in the snow bank, I did not throw a fit.  I did not.  Instead I looked at the lady who was following me and tried to play it off like that was totally my plan.

She didn't fall for it.  She laughed.

Then like a woodland sprite she gracefully hopped over the snowbank and made her way into the church building.

Hey, thanks for the Christlike service, lady.  Did I mention she's like 60?

Anyhow, at this point my feet are cold and frozen and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be miserable through the next three hours while I wait for my nylons to dry.  But, hey, I'm here and church is where it's at on Sunday mornings.  So, I looked to one of my children to hand me my shoes.  They were, after all, still standing street side.  Like freaking deer in headlights.  Staring at my shoes in the snowbank as though alien lifeforms had landed on earth.  Obviously oblivious to their mother's plight.

"Cadie, hand me my shoes...."

If Cadie had responded to that request it would have been, "uh....... duuuhhhhh....."

Again I asked for help.  Again I get nothing.

Finally when I gently suggested she focus her extreme mind powers on listening to my voice did she shake off the alien brain probe going on and hand me my shoes.

Then Cadie leaped like a stinking gazelle over the bank.

Joely was the only one left.

In true J Bear form he landed spread eagle on his stomach in the snow bank.  Hands on the sidewalk, feet in the street, high centered in gray snow, in his Sunday best. 

I grabbed his little arm and pulled him to safety.

"Wow, that was silly," he giggled up at me.  "I guess I'm going to have to go home, though, 'cause I just messed up my church clothes."  Is it me or did he sound hopeful there at the end?

Sadly for him, we marched into church.  Late.

Church was church.  The bonus is that my kids don't go to classes with me anymore.  Man, it's good when they age out of being your whiny lap pet. 

On the way out of church, as I neared the van I noticed something strange.  Both sliding doors on the van where wide open. 

"Oh, man, do you think those were open for the entire three hours we were just in church?" I said to J Bear.

"Probably, you did drop the keys when we were trying to get into church."

True.  (Double Dog Sigh)....

Well, my fellow wardies may not help me out of a snow bank, but at least they didn't hot wire my van and drive it to sunnier locations.

Happy Sunday friends!!

A Strange Way to Pray

Yesterday I needed to pray.  So, without really thinking about it I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and then I turned toward the door, pushed my head against it and prayed with my face in the towel that hangs on the back of the door.

As prayers go, it was a good one.

It wasn't until I left the room and began going about my business that I realized that I'd just prayed in the bathroom with my face mushed into a towel and had thought nothing of it.

Ah, the life of a mother.

All I can figure is that when I knew I needed a quick quiet moment to say a prayer I went to the one room where I do a lot of praying - the bathroom.  I do prayer time and shower time together quite often.  It's the one room that holds within it's power the possibility of private time.  All other rooms in the house have zippo chance of privacy.

As to why I turned and pushed my forehead into the door?

Well, sometimes even in the all powerful room of privacy, someone comes a knockin'.  So, I guess since my hands were going to be busy being folded the next best thing was using my forehead to hold the door closed.  Upon further thought I'm not sure why I didn't use my backside.  Would have been much more comfortable...

But, time is of the essence when sneaking away.  We don't always have time to really think things through.

On the bright side, at least I didn't sit on the toilet!

The Advenutres of....

For Christmas Cadie Lu recieved the cutest pair of gloves.  They are kind of a tan color and have owls on the tops of them.  (Owls are really cute, aren't they?!)

Not her gloves, but gives you an idea....

Last night we were in the car running a few errands and Cadie Lu apparently began to tire of the monotony.  So, in true Cadie style, she decided to pretend one of her gloves was alive and thus was born....

Wait for it....

Super Hooter.

Oh, ya. 

I recognize that this may be irreverent, but it was hilarious, so The Hubs and I just let her carry on with Super Hooter and his exploits.

Some phrases yelled from the back seat were:

"What is that?  It's Super Hooter!"
"Oh, no, I was just touched by Super Hooter!"
"Super Hooter is so soft and fun!"
"Super Hooter always makes everything better!"

etc.

Steve and I were cracking up in the front seat.  I'm "super" glad that Cadie is innocent enough to not understand that hooter is used as slang for, well, a woman's chest.  But that knowledge made the entire thing that much more hysterical.

It wasn't too long before Super Hooter was joined by his trusty sidekick, Super Finger.  But that's for another day.

The Rise of Smaug

Have you seen the movie The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug?

Huh.  That's too bad.  'Cause this post is gonna draw on an visual from that movie.

Anyhow, toward the end of the movie the dragon - Smaug - gets thrown into a vat of molten gold.  (Probably not actually called that, but since you haven't seen the movie I'm trying to give you a visual here.) But, our dragon is not conquered.  Indeed, he raises himself out of the liquid gold and flies into the air.  As the gold begins to harden he shakes his body and the gold chips into pieces and flies off his body.

He is no longer a prisoner of the gold.

Now, while Smaug is an evil-doer (he says the phrase "I am death" after shaking off the gold) I have decided that 2013 was a vat of molten gold lava that was trying to drown me in it.  2014 is going to start with me flying into the air and casting off that gold.  However, rather than shouting "I am death!" I will simply fly off into the proverbial sunset having thrown off the weight of the past.

Are you confused?

Guess you had to be there.  It will make sense if you drink a coke and watch that movie.  See it in the theater!!  Smaug is super creepy when you're in a dark room.

I guess I've just realized that it's time for me to recapture some of the parts of me that were laid to rest in the past year.  Or the parts that life smothered for a bit.

While privacy dictates that I not share EVERYTHING that happened in 2013, I will tell you that it was a painful year with much more happening than anyone realized.

I look forward to shaking off those hardships, rising stronger than before, and flying with hope into the future.

And, DANG IT, I'm gonna laugh along the way!

Happy New Year friends.

I'm baaaack......