Birthday Chugs

This guy turned two this weekend.

Wanna know about him? Good. He's a funny one and everyone who knows him enjoys his, shall we say...humor?

He can throw a ball better than most adult women. And some men.

And catch it too.

He has more coordination in his pinkie than most people I know. He can run like nobody's business. No. Really. He already runs like an athlete. (okay, so a short chubby athlete - but still, an athlete.)

He's a good eater. But don't leave him alone with his food. It will be all over his head, body bum, etc. Remember: He's funny. (I lost his plate from dinner the other day. A 'glass' plate. Looked everywhere. "Where's your plate?" Nothing. I took him out of his chair; he was sitting RIGHT on top of it. How? I wonder.)

If you feed him sugar after 6 p.m., you will see "The Baby Tennis Show!" And I mean it. It involves, dancing, rolling, running, jumping, throwing himself into anything/one within reach - including walls, fireplaces and people, tricks of any kind, and lots and lots of laughing. (if you choose to laugh at the show, the beast will be fed - and you'll get more) We're afraid one day may include a trip to the E.R. during the Baby Tennis Show.

He can do a somersault. Perfectly. I'm not kidding. He can do it better than anyone else in our house. I've never seen a two year old do that, but he can.

And last, but not least...he doesn't talk. This may sound like a good thing with a Wild Indian such as this one - but it's not. It's just a giant pain in the rear. He points, grunts, and garbles. He does say some things. Enough that the doctor thinks he's not going to be like this forever. He says, "bippy, bappy, behbow, baby, ball" . That's sippy, passy, blankie, baby, ball. He really does say a lot more, usually only decipherable by me. But still...

So there's Chuggy. He's two and he's great. He's actually been remarkably well behaved since his birthday. We're all a little caught off guard by this. Maybe it was the terrible ones for him...maybe I shouldn't speak too soon.

Dum-dums

This is a long, uncomplicated post, full of drastic opinions and off the top of my head rants. So beware. I'm just sayin...

Frequently, I classify myself as a dum-dum. (I prefer to spell it like the candy, makes me feel a little better) But this week, I have seen/heard a few dum-dums of my own.

Let's start at the Jazz game last Saturday night, shall we? Peter got great seats, row 9, to the game with the VIP dinner before hand included. (work...thanks mona vie!) Besides a WHOLE LOT of grown women dressing like they are 12, which by the way - what's with that? (Oh. I know. It's UTAH!!! Seriously! Give me a break. It's okay to not have 10 feet of make up on, Hollywood hair, very little clothing (especially in winter) AND bounce around like you're a teenager. Really. Especially when most of you had at least one teenager in tow! Help me! I'm not opinionated, now am I.)

But I digress... What I was wanting to talk about was the older (like 70) lady sitting next to me. This woman, I'm quite sure, is of the 'old version' of Utah women. Don't worry, I'll explain. (phew!) Utah used to be about who had more food storage, who had more children, who's whole wheat bread was better, and who's hair was bigger. Now, the hair thing is still around in lots are areas. But now, it's who's thinner, richer, how many affairs and still married, bodily enhancements are bigger, who's SUV is fancier. Oh yeah. And the other thing that hasn't changed is, who has the better calling and/or who's husband has a more IMPORTANT calling. (SIDE NOTE: I actually like living here. It's taken nearly ten years, and I'm quite happy. Most of the people are nice, once you get to know them. So while I sound like a total Utah hater, I am a reformed one. BUT, the things that used to bother me about here...still do!)

Sheesh! This wasn't going to be a "Utahns have big hair and are bad drivers" post, but apparently it has turned into that. Never mind! Okay. So the perfectly dressed, sweet as sugar lady next to me offers me a mint. Heart shaped. (what else is there?) But here's the dum-dum part that totally bugs me about lots of people here. A few minutes later, she's in her purse and pulls out an individually wrapped life saver. Yum. Then she pops in her mouth and throws the wrapper ON THE FLOOR! What? You're purse is open, lady! Put it back in there and throw it away later. This may seem silly, but I almost said to her, "Who do you think is going to pick that up?" Oh sure. 'People get paid to', I'm sure she'd say. But lady, do you want to crawl under dirty basketball seats, just to get that one little cellophane wrapper that someone couldn't just put in their pocket and deposit into a can later? Seems simple to me. Think of others. That's all I'm saying.

I see more people roll their windows down and throw trash out around here than ever. And I am continuously SHOCKED when I see it! More often than not, it's what I refer to as 'immigrants'. (call them what you want - they don't have the same consideration for the U.S. that I do) But I also regularly notice it's old-timer locals as well. Hello! Who do you think is going to pick that up!? (you can guess that I say that to my kids a lot, about a lot of things)

Okay, the next two dum-dums will be short. If I wasn't too lazy, didn't have the WORST cold in the history of the world so I have hardly gotten dressed/out of bed this week, and wasn't working on the blasted annual RS photo directory/calendar, I would have taken a picture of this. (oh yeah, and at least ONE kid crying/crawling all over me the entire time I am trying to write this...)

I have seen signs all over town, bright pink paper, huge print, that say:

HUGH SALE

K and L Thrift Shop

64 S. State

Did you get that? Hugh Sale? Like, as in, my dad's name? Hugh. Get it. It should say HUGE SALE. I tell ya. Spell check. It's ruining our lives, one day at a time. (being the worlds number one worst speller, I can say that. I never get better, because I don't have to! On my first commissioned birthday cake, I wrote: HAPPY BITHDAY! I can spell, but I am usually in too much of a hurry to notice my mistakes. If you read this blog though, you already know that)

And last, but not least, I saw a comment on Cjanes blog about icing. I'll post it here.

"One hint on the frosting. I don't allow my son to have things w/ preservatives, most store bought frosting's have that. I found that you can purchase frosting alone from the bakery in the grocery store. Yummo!"

Does she really think that grocery store icing doesn't have preservatives? Have you met Crisco? How 'bout their coloring? Have you ever seen electric pink in nature, lady? Could that possibly be any better for you than a can of frosting? I think not. But. What ev. You know what I say...make your own!

I think that sums up most of my ranting dum-dums this week. I'm sure there are more. But for now. Enough. Tune in later for more rants...

Mama Bear

Yesterday my mom stopped by. Just to visit. Really, visit. Or chat.

While we were talking on the couch, me at one end with my feet next to her hip and her with her feet tucked up, my kids gathered around us. Chuggy was napping, and the others had been in the basement playing. Until they heard grandma. One by one, up the stairs they came. To visit.

First Simon. He had to stick his wiry little body right between the two of us. And listen, and add comments, and listen some more. Then Samuel, he had to hog mom. So he pushed Si, just a bit toward grandma, and interrupt everyone. Telling us all of fascinating places and animals. (Did I mention he just won his class geography bee, and went on to the school finals? Well he did. And it was perfect for him.) Then Roo appeared and had to snuggle up on the other side of me, laying her head on mine and twiddling my hair. More listening, and telling of stories from each of them.

Then off hopped Simon to get something. Followed by Samuel. Return of both. Then Roo off to get her stuffed animals to suck her thumb. (Remember how I 'weaned' her, by getting rid of her blankie? Ha! She had other tricks up her sleeve!) Anyway....they were up and down, cuddling, snuggling, wrestling, up down, in out. All of them, giving me pats of love, playing with my hair, rubbing my leg.

I love them.

It really is like being a mama bear. My cubs like to be where I am. I know it's these times people speak of when I am constantly told, "Enjoy this. It will be gone before you know it."

And I do know it.

But of course, as I imagine all mama bears do. I'd had enough of their up and down, and said, "Okay. Time to go outside! Get your coats, boots, and hats on and be gone!"

Off they went.

About 28 seconds later they were in begging for hot cocoa. Which I didn't want to do. But Grandma got up to get it, which meant I had to get up. Which meant Chugs was up. Which meant hot cocoa was to be served. With whip cream, of course!

And today, the mama bear came out again. Not in the nice way either. When the big one threatened the smaller one, I came unglued. Just like a mama cub. And let him have it. (Verbally, that is. No ripping arms off, or dragging kids around by their heads or anything)

Anyway. Being a mama bear is hard. And wonderful. And fun. And full of tears. And filled with laughter. And I love it.

Now. What does a mama bear do when her babies are all grown up? Move to a fishing hole with a view? My mama bear lives just down the road. And that's how I like it. What will I do? Where will my cubs be? Hmmm. Still a ways off I suppose.

You Be the Judge

You tell me.

I think things are going from bad to worse.

My children have made all of these comments, many - more than once, to me in the last few weeks. They are:

Mom, your belly is getting big.

While pattting my chest, "bum!" (that was Chubs)

Mom, you need to exercise.

Mom, why are you so fat on Wii fit? You're bigger than dad!

Mom, your stomach is really getting big, especially in the back. (love handles...I think, was the reference here)

To each response I say, "Well, there is a baby in there you know."

I think this isn't cutting it for them. AND, newsflash to all involved: I KNOW IT!!!

But thanks for the heads up, anyway.

Things Learned During December

Number One: My kids are getting big, and I don't like it! I can never get back their adorable little selves. They are cute though, aren't they?

Number Two: SIMPLIFY! I threw out two tubs of Christmas junk from years past. Adios! Everything was simpler this year. Decor, gifts, food, get togethers. LOVED IT.


Number Three: It is FREEZING at Temple Square! Go before the cold snap REALLY hits!

Number Four: This is a sad one, are you ready?...not everyone likes really crispy, full of flavor, snap in your mouth bacon. What? Sad. Some people like to feel it rubbery in their mouths. Eeew. Oh, well. To each their own. I guess. What ev.

Number Five: It now takes two pans of Dutch Babies to feed our family. Holy cow!! What will High School bring?!

Number Six: All those years I mocked people who bought pre-made ginger bread house kits - well, they knew something I didn't. They are genius! Really! What have I been thinking all these years? Geesh! I broke down and bought one, in my effort to simplify, but not kill, all tradition. And might I say, 9.99 at Costco. Will I ever go back? I doubt it! After buying all the candy and having bags left til the fourth of July! No way. One house. Each kid got to do two sides/roof/tree of their choice, and WA LA! Gingerbread happiness.

Number Seven: Simple. Happy times. Priceless. (but not like the Visa ad, priceless. Like really, duh.)

Hair Flowers

Here are the cute flowers we made last week. Aren't they cute?

Can I say cute one more time?

Probably.

Cute.

Shopping til I'm dropping

I really am writing a "new years" kind of post. Really. I have been for quite a while now. So, someday I'll post it. Someday. It's interesting - I guess.

But for now I'll tell you about my weekend with my friend Tiff.

She was going to come and bring the whole fam on New Years Eve, spend the weekend, see the lights at Temple Square and shop. But schedules and weather weren't in favor of this - so they had to bag it. About 2 pm on the 31st Tiff called and said she's comin' alone! She had to get out of her house. Eight days of company and two weeks of winter break were enough for her!

Here's what we did:

Shop, laugh, shop, eat, shop, shop,eat, laugh and shop some more.

Now normally, I'm not a big shopper. Okay - never am I one. But I was all too happy to tag along as Peter happily volunteered to watch the kids for the better part of two days while Tiff and I ran around. It was a MUCH needed mini vacation for me as well.

Tai Pan Trading
In and Out Burger
Taiwan Imports (closed - holiday)
Gardener Village (closed - holiday)
Another Tai Pan
Ikea
Thai Chili Garden
Floral Wholesaler
Sweet Tooth Fairy
Quilted Bear
(a dump at the D.I.)
McDonalds (for the kids)
Roberts Crafts
Cafe Rio
DownEast Home Outlet
American Quilting
The Bosch Store
Nordstrom

Now seriously. If this is not serious shopping, I don't know what is. This has to be the most I have been out of the house for the entire year combined! You would have been proud. (I need to get out more) I'll have you know I bought exactly three things: two plastic containers and a toilet brush from Ikea, totaling 11 dollars. Wait. Not true, I bought a hair bow to copy from Quilted Bear. When I'm not too lazy to download, I'll show you. It's cute. We had a little craft night recreating the flower clips to our liking. Fun. (When I show you what I bought myself for Christmas, you'll know why I had to penny pinch the whole time. I've spent my fun money for the year.)

Tiff also met TAMN. If you don't know TAMN, go here. You'll love her. It's SOOOOO funny. Make sure you talk in your best Valley Girl accent and don't forget that TAMN is not real. If you forget this fact, her blog can be quite disturbing - as it is too close to life. (haha) Anywho, we stayed up WAY too late every night, and then Tiff had to get her fill of TAMN. Lot's of laughing here too.

So there you have it. Fun for all. Well, at least Tiff and I. Not so sure her husband Rich or my Peter had such a fun time...but we did!