My sisters will be proud

I am the fifth of seven sisters, and I must say they are all fantastic and amazing at something, probably several somethings. Until recently I held the title of "boring sister" which might sound offensive, but a) it was true and b) I'm totally fine with being boring; ask my husband. The title has now been retired. I want to be more like my sisters. I feel a need to keep up with them, but not in a competitive way, more of an admirable way. I want to be better at some of the things they do so well.

One thing they put a lot of time and effort into is good food. My oldest sister has a goal to produce most of her own food from her garden this year. My Albanian sister is giving up sugar for a whole year. One sister is a vegetarian and another is on a quest to get people to eat more vegetables. She has vegetable birthday parties and always takes a vegetable dish to any potluck-type gathering.

My diet has not been great lately, lots of eating out and very little meal planning. I went the whole month of January without any junk and haven't touched a fry since, and I gave up sodas (except for some ginger ale when I had a cold a few weeks ago). I bought the newly updated How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman; the original is a favorite among my sisters. I also checked out his Food Matters Cookbook from the library, which is good, but a little too much for me. I'm not ready to make any drastic changes, but I am determined to eat better and get more vegetables into our diet.

Here's what we ate last night:



Parmesan Crusted Chicken with Tomato and Basil




Maple Glazed Sweet Potatoes and Parsnips

 I insisted the kids try one bite of chicken with the tomato and basil. That chicken is actually one of my favorites; I don't make it very often because I burn it every-other time I make it. I must've burned it last time. Cakes choked it down. Silly took at least 15 minutes to decide to eat it, saying over and over how he hates tomatoes. When he finally ate it Scott and I teased him while he chewed, saying things like, "I'm watching you very closely to make sure you don't fall over dead." After a bit of chewing he declared he liked it, but declined to try any more tomatoes.

I also made them eat at least one parsnip and one sweet potato. Cakes took one little bite of parsnip and said it wasn't bad. She took another little bite later and said "I actually kind of like these." Sweet! (I threw in a little reminder about having to try something 15 times before you like it. Guess I haven't tried grapefruit enough yet.) Scott fed Silly his parsnip, he said he didn't like it, but he could live on carrots and parsnips aren't much different. And most amazingly of all - SCOTT liked all of it! Even the sweet potatoes, and he is not a fan at all. Baby steps.

Speaking of babies, while I was typing about food very early this morning, Bubba woke up rather late (7:45), but he didn't go to bed until almost ten, so that wasn't entirely unexpected; however, Bubba crawling into my lap and almost immediately starting to throw up was. I mananged to get him into the bathroom first. Is there anything more pathetic than the sight of a little person throwing up? I don't think so. I took his temp when I got him dressed, 102.2. Coincidently, we already had a doctor's appointment for him this morning to recheck his ear infection. Lo and behold, his other ear is now infected so this time he gets to take the yucky medicine and we get to go back to the doctor in another 2 weeks. Good times. He is starting to come back to life now after a juicebox and a pancake.

Playtime

The boys had a lengthy wrestle-fest a few nights ago. Cakes would usually be in on the action too, but she was taking a shower. Bubba likes to stand and balance on anyone who happens to be laying down.

Scott would sit up and Bubba would try to push him down saying "go seepy ni-night!" Silly was throwing pillows at Scott, then collecting them, making a pile and throwing them again.
We spent some time outside yesterday in the lovely weather. And I even managed to get Cakes in a picture!

See those legs to the right of the tree trunk? That's her.

 Scott and I have differeing opinions on tree climbing. He's against it; he doesn't want any broken bones. I'm all for it; I did plenty of tree climbing when I was kid. Both our boys have broken an arm already, but neither break had anything to do with trees. And that magnolia is such a good climbing tree, who can resist?

A real picture of Cakes. You can see some rainbow stripes up in the tree. That's one of Cakes's friends. She was banished for a while because she's mean to the boys. I stayed nearby or kept them separated.

This picture makes me laugh. He looks like he's about to blast off or something. He wants his helmet on so he can ride his trike. He only ever rides it for a few minutes but then he keeps the helmet on for an hour.

Things have been better with Cakes this last week. We had a "Daddy and I are worried about you" talk last weekend. Scott and I talked and decided to go ahead and let her sleep in the upstairs room by herself. Silly keeps her awake many nights, so maybe lack of sleep was an issue. She's been up there all week and has been unusually cheerful. Although, I see evidence that she plays up there quite a bit; one night all her American Girl stuff was out, this morning I saw coloring books (that haven't been touched in ages, if ever) and colored pencils. I scared her one night when I came up to tell her goodnight because I caught her playing. It's not like I didn't play in my room way past my bedtime.

I've been reading the Five Love Languages of Children like my sister recomended (I read the original 5 Love Languages several years ago). It has definitely given me some ideas. I think her love language is quality time because when she asks me for something, she's usually asking for me to do something with her. Now that she's upstairs all alone I'm going to go up there a few mights a week and read to just her for a little while. We'll see what develops.

Another sister sent me a booklet called Parenting the Nonviolent Communication Way (that's the book I forgot to look for the other day! I knew there was another book I wanted). I'll be tossing that in my bag of stuff to bring to my brother's house. I'm ditching my family in favor of his for the weekend to help my SIL and their new baby. I told them I'm their servant/consultant for the weekend, but let's be honest, I just want to get some baby time and make my faraway sisters jealous.

Weekend Fun

Scott and I looked at a few more houses Friday afternoon, then went back to the house we already have a contingency contract on; I haven't been in it since September so I needed to refresh my memory and make sure it really is perfect and not just that I make it perfect in my head. Yep, it's perfect. Scott's question is whether or not a "perfect" house is worth so much more money than a house that needs some work. As someone who has already done all that work in our current house, my answer is a definite yes. I've already repainted every room in this house, stripped more wallpaper than I care to think about and remodeled two bathrooms. Why would I want to move to a house that would require me to do all those things again?

After that fun, we got Cakes off the bus (after witnessing the bus driver give her a little talk), loaded everybody up with their pillow pets and blankets and set off for Gummy's house. They slept most of the drive, as usual. When they did wake up Bubba was trying to sing Justin Bieber; I tried to get it on video, but as usual he stops whatever he's doing when he sees a camera. I don't know that I even have that boys voice recorded at all. Something to work on I guess.

And we got another hilarious saying out of Silly. He was once again hot, and told us exactly how hot he was. "I'm hot! I'm really hot! It's hot in this car! I'm so hot I feel like my skin's gonna fall off!"

Bubba has this new thing when he gets excited. He puts his arms straight up and yells, "Aaaaaaahhhh!" and dances around like a little elf. So as soon as we turned into the driveway he put his little arms up, said Grandma lots of times and then ran around the house for at least five minutes alternating between yelling grandma, Charlie, and just plain old yelling. One more thing I need to document.

Saturday morning we hung out with Mamie for a little while. Cakes and Silly were digging around in the back yard, when Papop came home with some raised flowerbed kits to assemble, so Cakes and Silly went to work helping. I don't know how helpful they were because I went across the street with Bubba to take my SIL some baby things I'd dug out of the attic to loan to her. We talked baby stuff for a while and she showed me her nursery all set up, ready and waiting.

Then I did the kid round-up and met Scott and his parents for lunch. They love Arby's and really wanted us to eat lunch there. I don't like Arby's and haven't been to one in probably 20 years, but everyone else really, really likes it. It was nice, and I did have a very yummy sweet potato and a good zucchini muffin.

I made all three kids take naps since I knew they'd be out past bedtime when we went to my ward reunion. I didn't plan clothing for the weekend very well. I really should have packed three outfits for everyone, knowing there was no chance my kids would stay clean for a whole day, but I didn't. Everyone changed at least one article of clothing and got ready to party.

It was sooo fun to see some old friends, lots of whom I probably saw last at my wedding reception or even before I left for college. I took one lame picture, and wish I'd taken more, but you can't take pictures when you're talking you head off.

You can see my dad standing in the background. He and my mom and sisters were Scottish Country dancing earlier, so he's still in his Scottish attire (not Austrian for those of you who know him). And way in the background, off to the left of my dad, in the red jacket is Kathleen Knight, who told me I'm adorable, cute, and still look like a teenager (thanks!) and off to the right of my dad in the dark suit is Glade. He did manage to refrain from calling me Kiddo and tousling my hair. I was especially glad to see Charlie and Grace Tony, former Sunday School teachers who put up with a bunch of smart-Alec teenagers. It was funny to talk about our 7yo daughters. Who'da thought?

Scott knew he'd be watching our kids while I was chatting with people, and he did a good job keeping track of them and making sure they ate something other than cupcakes and candy. And he even talked to my ex-boyfriend (they knew each other in high school).

Sunday we went to church at the Clover Hill ward, where my dad was the first bishop. I remember helping him organize all the new manuals and such in the closet outside his office in the brand new building. It was an extra long sacrament meeting (almost two hours!) and Dad was just about last. My kids were pretty good. Cakes was freezing, Bubba slept on me the entire time, Silly and Cakes took turns snuggling Scott to stay warm. The whole time my sisters and I are waiting and waiting for Dad to speak and wondering what the update is on my SIL who was in labor. Dad went to the hospital as soon as he was able to get out the door.

We went back to my in-laws' for lunch. The kids were eating green shamrock cookies when my MIL looked at Silly all worried and asked him if he'd eaten more than one green cookie. He said he had 2, and she told him he was turning green all the way down to his neck. He started to squirm a bit, trying to hide his neck with his collar, thought about it for a minute, then popped another cookie in his mouth and cracked up. A few minutes later we were all talking again and he snuck off to the bathroom to look at himself. He came back a minute later, looking a little relieved, saying, "It's just white." You could tell he didn't really believe he'd turned green, but he wanted to make sure.

I debated what to do as far as heading back home or waiting for my new niece to arrive. We eventually set off for home. Things were moving pretty slow with the baby, and Silly and Cakes had to get to school in the morning.

My new niece arrived last night, via c-section (her poor mom, after 24-hours in labor!) but she's healthy and super cute and has her daddy's nose. I can't believe my little brother is a dad!

That's enough for one weekend, right? Now I have to find a way/time/reason to go back soon to see the baby and to clean the house for them. My sister did that for me after my first baby, it was awesome, and ever since then I've felt obligated to return the favor to someone.

Evidence

My younger sister has given hats to all my kids. She knit a pumpkin hat for Cakes, which I think was one of her first knitting attemps. Cakes has worn that hat quite a lot, and it gets lots of dress-up use. Then this same sister gave Silly a strawberry hat. One of her fellow Waldorf teachers made a bunch and brought them to school to give away. She thought the strawberry one was cute, brought it home, and Silly claimed it. He wears it for all sorts of things, including many turns as the innkeeper in the Nativity story. She had us for Christmas and decided Bubba needed a fruit hat too, so she knit him a green apple hat. It took him a while to wear it, but lately he's started to like it, he can put it on by himself, and sometimes even asks for his hat after he gets his jacket on. And now I finally have some pictures to prove it.



getting ready to run away







Climbing in

 And while I'm looking at this picture, can someone please tell me why, when just about all minivans have two sliding doors now, do all of my children insist on entering and exiting the vehicle through the door that is the most inconvenient for the most people?

Hunting for Jewels

I have this conversation several times a day:

C or S: Can I watch some shows?
Me: No.
C or S: Can I play some video games?
M: No.
C or S: But there's nothing to do! This is so boring! etc...
30 seconds - 3 minutes later...
C or S: Can I go outside?
M: Yes
Alternate ending - approximately 2 minutes later I hear/see them having fun together in the house.

Here's what Silly and Bubba ended up doing yesterday morning:

They found my silicone muffin cups and pretended they were jewels. I have regular and mini cups in lots of colors and they spread them all over the house then went on a treasure hunt. They stayed busy for at least 30 minutes just spreading out and then collecting muffin cups.

Unexpected Pajama Day Issue

Yesterday was Pajama Day at Silly's preschool. He was pretty excited about not getting dressed in the morning and we didn't even comb his hair so it would be more authentic. :-)

I came into his classroom to help out and before they ate their snack-breakfast, the teacher did a survey with the kids. They had a choice to try hot chocolate and tea then vote for their favorite. She has several children with allergies and there was something in the hot chocolate they couldn't have so they tested fruit snacks - green v. red. I went over to Silly and quietly told him we don't drink tea. I'm pretty sure that had never come up for him before, and I never imagined it would come up in his preschool class. He started to get upset, eyes filling up with tears and said, "I didn't know it was tea." It told him it was OK, the teacher hadn't even started pouring any yet. I quietly told her we don't drink tea. She said something along the lines of "not even chamomile?" I just said "we don't drink tea" again. Silly tested the fruit snacks instead. When it was time to vote, no one voted for tea as their favorite. Whose 4yo drinks tea? I just thought that the whole thing was very odd. Silly probably would have tried it if I hadn't been there, and he may or may not have ever told me about it and either way it wouldn't have been the end of the world. But now I'm wondering, do I need to put "no coffee, tea, alcohol and tobacco" on their school forms from now on just in case a teacher decides to offer them someday? I only ever imagined those issues coming up with friends and in other people's homes, not school.

(For my non-LDS friends, we follow something called the Word of Wisdom which tells us to eat a healthy, balanced diet and avoid coffee, tea, tobacco, alcohol and illegal drugs.)

Anyway, other than that little snag, PJ Day was fun. One mom sent in these cute and yummy pop-tarts on a stick made with pastry dough and strawberries. I'm gonna have to give those a try. The kids ate pancakes and fruit. It was nice to see that most of the kids really like fruit (there were grapes, strawberries and bluberries) just about all of them wanted some and lots asked for seconds.

The boys and I stayed in our PJs until 3:00 when I had to get dressed, drop them off with friends, and go look at some houses. The house huting was actually a little funny, because there were so many little things I noticed and thought, "What would Silly do with that?" Things like bedrooms with little doors to tiny attic spaces; this can't be Silly's room, he'd never stay out of that; columns - Silly would tie something to that; staircase with a landing - how soon before that wall has a hole in it from Silly racing something off the steps?; house next to a dried up lake - Silly would never stay out of that, but he'd get lots of use out of his boots. Some of these thoughts I was saying out loud and I was giving the impression that Silly is a terror. He's not a terror at all, just busy.

Can't

My struggles with Cakes continue. I decided several weeks ago to let her develop and demonstrate self-discipline. One unexpected thing happened - her handwriting has miraculously and drastically improved! She's perfectly capable of writing neatly, but doesn't care to take the time. I pestered her about it a lot in the past and she's had it on a goal chart for a good long time. I haven't said a word about it in weeks and suddenly everything she wrote last week was perfect. She put more stickers on her chart last week than she had in two months (and it's not that big a chart). I've only been checking her homework for completeness, not accuracy, and haven't lingered around offering help with homework or piano unless she asks for help.

Thursday after gymnastics she told me her coach asked her to do 10 push ups every night this week. She didn't have to tell me that, I never would have known any different, but she told me. The first night she tried there was lots of crying, "I can't" and "It's too hard." For some reason she thinks those are magic words that make unpleasant things disappear. But then Saturday she told Grandaddy all about how she's been working on push ups and demonstrated some very nice ones for him. Last night we did push ups as a family.

Friday I got another email from her piano teacher saying Cakes absolutely refused to even discuss the Spring Recital, said she's not going to do it and doesn't care that it's required. I should have thought to warn her about that. Cakes will do it, but she's not going to like it or be happy about it and there will probably be lots of tears involved.

Last night we were cleaning up the family room so we could play some family games. In the process I saw that she had not done her math homework at all. She came home from school yesterday, went out to the backyard with her backpack and then about 20 minutes later she came to ask what she could do next, leaving me to assume she'd done her homework. I told her she could practice piano, which she did for about 5 minutes. I assumed she'd been doing her homework outside. My immediate response after seeing her untouched math worksheet was "no friends tomorrow." We then told her she'd have to finish cleaning up then she'd miss out on game time while she finished her homework. She of course walked away wailing and crying and saying how mean I am and how unfair her miserable life his.

That made me mad (it usually does) so I called her back into the family room and yelled at her saying she has no right to call me mean because she made a bad decision. I trusted her to finish her work. I did not do or say anything mean to her, if she wanted to be mad at someone she ought to be mad at herself because she was the one that did something wrong not me. She's always telling Scott that I'm so mean to her, even says that I hate her and I'm pretty tired of hearing that and being blamed for every speck of unhappiness in her life.

She went back to her homework and we started playing Mouse Trap (a rather disastrous attempt I might add, with Bubba trying to help out). She eventually finished her math after wailing and crying and asking for help and saying she doesn't know what to do. The girl needs to learn to read and follow directions. She did manage to join us for some of the game and the we pigged out on leftover ice cream and brownies dropped off by our home teacher. (The remaining ice cream went in the trash.)

I was impressed this morning when she asked me to check her math worksheet and didn't lose it when I told her what was wrong and talked her through the solutions.

But then I was cleaning up this morning and went to put her piano notebook away. She told me she only had assignments in one of her four books this week, and I believed her and hadn't looked because I was letting her figure things out. She has assignments in all four of her books! And not just one page, but several!

Looks like we'll be having a talk when she gets home from school...