Toys vs. Luffah

A bathtub full of toys and 1 luffah. Noah would rather chew on the luffah. Downside = bacteria. Upside = Didn't have to clean his face with a washcloth, which he hates! :)

Sound Effects

One of Austin and Connor's favorite pasttimes lately is pretending to be superheroes. This of course requires a lot of sound effects, whooshing, swishing, the light saber noise from Star Wars, dinosaurs roaring, (you get the picture). In fact, there isn't really anything that doesn't require some sort of sound effect. Often, Dustin and I have a fair tolerance level for the noise and commotion that accompanies the work of a superhero. Occasionally, our tolerance level dips somewhat.

However, just the other day as I was watching them "save the world" I had another philosophical moment. What if we all got that "into" what we were doing? I could make really great whizzing noises while I'm moving laundry from the washer to the dryer, loading the dishwasher and picking up toys! And I think I'd look great in a cape while vacuuming with my sidekick, the super-duper-ultra-amazing Dyson! Perhaps this would make chores more fun. Perhaps it would only make me look silly. Either way, it would definitely put into full view how "Wonder Mom" zips through her day like a speeding bullet, leaping toys in a single bound and ensuring the safety of the little people :)

Kid Paradise/Parent Hell

Last night we drove in to Anchorage for the birthday party of one of Connor's classmates. The party was held at Chuck E. Cheese's. After enduring several trips to this kid paradise/parent hell I feel educated enough to make some observations. First, there are a lot of people talking on cell phones in this place. How can they hear the person they're talking to? It is soooo loud in there I can't hear myself think! Second, no one that works there ever looks happy or has anything close to a smile on their face. In fact, they all look like they would rather lick wet paint then suffer one more minute being run over by people less than 5 feet tall. Finally, I'm thinking that a study on the effects of sensory overstimulation of children should be conducted by spending about 12 hours in Chuck E. Cheese's. They would shut that place down! I left there with the biggest migraine of my life. I was so sure that the pressure behind my right eyeball was going to cause it to fall out of my head and that I would welcome it if it did!

What are they laughing at?

Whenever I'm approached by someone with a snicker or full-blown grin on their face it's usually safe to assume my boys have either done something terrible or terribly funny. This morning at the library I approached the check-out desk and noticed both librarians looking at me and trying not to laugh. After doing a quick wardrobe check to make sure there were no obvious malfunctions and wiping my hand across my mouth to make sure there was no cream cheese left over from that yummy bagel, I looked around for Austin and Connor. Sure enough, they were the reason behind the giggles.

Apparently, Austin and Connor had been sitting there doing puzzles when a group of young girls walked by. Austin looks up and without hesitating says to the girls, "I'm Austin and this is my brother Connor, and we're always up for adventure."

Mothers, lock up your daughters, here they come!

Things We Mourn

I was sitting here gazing at my youngest child just now thinking how much I missed that adorable head of hair he had before his recent run in with the clippers. I think I'm actually grieving the passage of time with my last baby. I never for one moment wanted my oldest two to stay small forever, but it's so different with Noah. First of all, there's only one of him. Second, if there's an easier baby to care for or love on this planet I'd like to see it.

At any rate, after philosophizing for a minute or two about receding hairlines and receding childhoods, I started thinking of other things I haven't gotten over the loss of yet.

1. My prebaby body.
2. Eating food while it's still hot.
3. Being able to sit down and read a really good book in 1 sitting.
4. A time when I knew all the words to the latest Bruce Springsteen song instead of all the words to the Spongebob Squarepants theme.
5. Sleeping all night without having to get up to pee.

Oh well, I suppose the passage of time takes things away and brings you others (more philosophizing). Here's what I've gained:

1. About 40 pounds.
2. An appreciation for hot food.
3. Much more selective taste in reading material (i.e. anything quick).
4. An ability to answer Trivial Pursuit questions about Spongebob Squarepants.
5. Not enough sleep to have nightmares.

Half empty or half full - either way there's still something in the glass! :)

"Here's Your Sign!"

I don't know if you have to cite sources on a blog, but just in case, for those of you who have been hiding out in the jungles of Africa, Bill Engvall gets the credit for my title.

For some reason completely unknown to me, I have always loved wacky signs. This caught my fancy on a drive we took not too long ago. I am so excited for snow at this point. It sounds like all the real fun starts when the snow flies.

J~

Parent Radar

When I was little my mom could tell I'd been up to something the moment I walked in the door, before I even said a word. Lying wasn't really an option either because she had a 6th sense that would scare the crap out of most psychics. Now that my children are of the age where they're trying to become sneaky, I've figured out how she used to do it.

Lately, Austin and Connor have decided that if I tell them no all they have to do is wait until I'm not in the room to go ahead and do it anyway. Then they are always amazed when they get caught. Most of the time they do something that puts them in the running for "World's Dumbest Criminals", but often I can tell just by looking at them.

So after a little thought about this phenomenon here's my analogy for how this part of the parenting process goes down. Children, unbeknownst to them, are like little bats sending out guilty signals as they fly around. These guilt signals then bounce off of their parents and are picked up by "parent radar". After awhile, parent radar becomes extremely sensitive and can sense mischief even when the child is not in close proximity.

So, in summary, when my children get that bewildered look and ask, "How did you know?", I reply just like my mother used to, "I always know," and hopefully this scares them as bad as it used to scare me!