You Don't Say......

Way back when I was in college we had to take sociology.  One of the things we learned was that each family develops its own language.  Certain phrases take on meanings that only that one particular family understands.  Just like an inside joke.  Well, as I've noticed before and again more recently, our family is no different. 

I have previously blogged about how we never call body parts by their "normal" names.  And everyone has a nickname.  Recently, our little parrot (a.k.a Noah) has started throwing out things that we can easily pinpoint back to one family member or another.  For example:

1.  "What's up homes?" (that one would be me)
2.  "Shut your face!" (Austin and Connor)
3.  "Whatcha buildin'?" (Dustin)

I also smile when he tells me, "Good choice mom!" after picking a song to play in the truck and "Sounds like a plan!" when I fill him in on the day's itinerary.  "I'm on it!" is echoed when he's asked to pick up toys or let the dogs in. 

Sadly, he's also used a few less than favorable phrases not fit for writing on a blog post about a 4-year-old.  I take responsibility for those as well.  All in all, he is quite articulate for a 4-year-old and has developed quite the sense of humor.  I think we'll keep him.

It's Disgusting!!

Dear Austin,
Some day perhaps you will read this blog post.  I hope we share a good laugh over it.  I have a feeling we will beacuse you're that kind of kid, able to laugh at himself. 

Yesterday I asked you to fold laundry.  It was actually supposed to be punishment for snapping Connor with a bungee cord.  It turned out to be what I consider a life lesson.  You were definitely upset about having to fold laundry because you said "I'm not good at it."  I replied that the more you did it, the better you would get at it.  You thumped yourself down in front of the baskets and started folding.  Then you got to my underwear. 

You came to me and said, "Mom, I feel like it's inappropriate that I fold your bra and underwear."  I tried to hide a smile.  I told you I had folded your underwear more times than I could count.  "But that's different," you said, "I'm your kid."  "Maybe you're right," I said, "but clothes are clothes and my underwear are no different than shirts or pants."  I tried reasoning with you for about 5 minutes, but you just dug your heels in and finally started crying.  Then you said, "It's disgusting and I am NOT folding your underwear!!"  I sent you to your room for yelling at me.

I wasn't sure how to proceed.  On the one hand, I felt you had a legitimate gripe and I could see how a 9-year-old boy would find his mother's underwear less than sexy.  On the other hand, you have an enviable knack for getting out of work and I could see this spiraling into "everybody's clothes but mine are disgusting...."  I also try to remind myself that I'm not just raising sons, but future husbands, and before that men who will need to be able to take care of themselves. 

So when you came back downstairs, much calmer, I spoke to you about all the things I've done for you that are "disgusting".  I reminded you of poopy diapers that went up your back and down your legs, puke that covered every surface for 20 square feet, pee on the walls and yes, sometimes your underwear.  Again you reminded me, "but you're my mom."  I said, "I'm sorry Austin, but these are the facts of life.  We all have to do things we'd rather not do.  And while I understand that you're not crazy about touching my underwear, I promise you they are clean and won't transmit girl cooties." 

You resigned yourself to the fact that mom was not going to budge on this one and acting as though they were on fire, very quickly folded my underwear into a barely recognizable wad and threw them at my pile of clothes.  I assured you that after awhile underwear would be no big deal.  You assured me that you doubted my wisdom on this one. 

I love you Austin.  You make me laugh, you are open, smart and kind.  You are also very normal.  And someday, you will be a good man just like Dust, who is practically impossible to gross out.

Love,
Mom

Ahhhh, the Fair

In Montana there are fairs all summer long.  Just where we lived there was the Missoula fair, the Kalispell fair and the Plains fair.  In Alaska........there is 1.  But it's a doozy!  The last several years we haven't had a lot of money to spend at the fair so it was usually a pretty subdued experience, but this year we were a little more flush so we had A LOT more fun. 

We started out walking by all the vendors, ooohhing and ahhhing over hot tubs (me), snowmobiles and 4-wheelers (Austin and Connor), mini back massagers (Dustin) and construction equipment (Noah).  Then we hit the food trail.  Oh how we reveled.  We paid so much for food we probably could have fed a small African country for a week.  There were tamales, cheese curds, pizza and tacos followed by cotton candy, ice cream, a rootbeer float and a carmel apple.  No one walked away hungry or unsugared.

Of course rides had to be ridden.....and for your enjoyment I have included pictures :) 

No one puked! Although I came dangerously close on the carousel as it was whipping around at 0.2 miles per hour. 

Finally we toured the barns.  The kids were not impressed with the quilts or the artwork, but had a blast checking out all the animals.  They had fun petting lambs, goats, cows and bunnies.  They got to see baby chicks hatching and turkeys gobbling.  I believe Noah summed up the day best when he told a rooster who had just cock-a-doodle-doo'd, "Chicken, that was AMAZING!!"

Stinky Baby Sasquatch

I suppose its inevitable that my boys will eventually mature into men.....And for some reason I've decided that the easily observable physical signs are the hardest for me to accept.  The boys however seem quite delighted with each new thing that makes them "more like dad." 

Upon their return from Montana this year Austin announced that his legs were becoming quite hairy and that he was turning into a baby Sasquatch.  I found this very funny and told him so.  I also suggested he spend more time roaming the woods around our house just to see if his "true parents" were out there somewhere.  He didn't find that very funny at all.

A few days ago Connor passed by me and caused me to wonder if I had forgotten to put my deoderant on that morning.  So I casually sniffed and was relieved to discover that I hadn't forgetten, which meant......it was time to buy deoderant for the boys (which they used to refer to as "boyoderant" and loved to apply whenever Dustin was caught putting his on).  I was pretty surprised that I had a hard time convincing them they needed it and even went so far as to make them smell their own armpits.  The looks on their faces reminded me of someone who had to suck on a lemon knowing there will be no shot of tequila to follow.  Total bummer dude. 

Last of all, they will soon surpass my own hobbit-like stature and I will become the midget in my house.  At only 9 years of age they are already at my shoulder so I'm forcasting another year or so before they're looking me directly in the eyes.  And should they think that my vertically challenged condition equals weakness, I shall remind them that a lower center of gravity equals a much better tackle :)

Feel the Noise

Today is going to be one of THOSE days.  The kids woke up fighting.  The dogs woke up whining and I think I woke up with this headache.  No wait, I did not have this headache before the kids got up.  And of course we have things to do, places to go and people to see, so locking myself in my bedroom is probably not an option. 

I saw the best cartoon the other day, it showed this furry little monster with huge eyeballs.  The caption read, "I put redbull in my coffee pot this morning instead of water.  Now I can SEE noises!"  An accurate description of how this morning feels I must say.

Therefore I will resort to my stress-reliever of choice, my imagination.  Perhaps if I imagine places that are more noisy and chaotic than my home, I will feel better about being trapped stuck here. Here is a top 10 list:

10. New York City.
 9.  A NASCAR race.
 8.  The tarmac of O'Hare International Airport.
 7.  Bike week in Daytona.
 6.  A professional football game.
 5.  A Southern Baptist revival camp.
 4.  A California freeway at rush hour.
 3.  The state fair on "Kids Get In Free Day"
 2.  Mardi Gras.

And of course, lets not forget.....
1.  All you can eat crab legs at Hooters on a Friday night.

Yup, I feel a little better.  Peace out my friends :)

A Modern Day Love Affair

Don't be confused darlings, that is a picture of my brand-spanking new dishwasher.  As many of you know I have been living a harder simpler life since we moved into this house, which includes washing dishes by hand (not by choice) and in the last 6 months or so hanging all my clothes on a clotheslines in the basement (because the dryer died)......don't cry for me, it's character-building (or so my dad likes to say). 

At any rate, due to my husband's recent job switch and massive amounts of overtime, we can finally afford to start heading back into the 21st century.  This last weekend we went to Lowe's where I thoroughly harrassed the nice salesman and finally picked out a new dishwasher.  It was in and running in no time and I happily encouraged my friends to eat as much as they wanted and use ALL my dishes if they liked, since I no longer had to stand in front of the sink and wash them one by one!

Now I often find myself gazing lovingly at my dishwasher, speaking sweet nothings to it while I load dirty dishes in it and when no one is looking I even stroke the clean white button panel.......but I digress.  

I know how anxious you are to hear about the arrival of my sweet little washer and dryer next month, so I will dutifully keep you posted :)

Love,
Jules

The Old Switcheroo

I love change.  Lots of it, all the time.  I tend to change my hair color every few months, my vehicle every few years and my underwear every day.  My mom says I'm a bit of a gypsy.  I love new places, faces and spaces baby!  Unfortunately I am now married and a mother.....and not everyone likes change as much as I do.  So I get by with little changes here and there, things like paint or pictures, so on and so forth.  One of my most favorite changes has always been rearranging furniture.  You can have a whole new room in 10 minutes!  Again, pretty sure I'm the only one in my family that feels this way as everyone else rolls their eyes and groans when I say, "Let's just change it up a bit in here shall we?" 

My latest project has been moving Noah to the top floor and moving my office from the cleaning closet to Noah's old room.  In order to move Noah upstairs, I had to move his brothers over into the other room.  This has been AWESOME.  I've gotten to paint like a crazy woman, move lots of furniture and make a bazillion trips up and down the stairs (good for the glutes and hammies!)  Sadly, my husband does not share my enthusiasm and for those of you who know my husband, this is not surprising. 

On Sunday I asked for his assistance in moving furniture from the basement to the 2nd floor.  He trudged down the stairs as slowly as possible while I jumped around like the squirrel in Over The Hedge (who acts like he's on crack and speed simultaneously).  Dustin patiently asked, "Haven't we already moved these several times?"  To which I replied, "Nope, you're hallucinating.  We've only moved the corner desk from the old house to this house, right into this spot, and the white desk from upstairs to its current location."  I could see him mentally treading water as he searched for another tactic to avoid this chore.  As I'm sure you've surmised, he didn't find one and the furniture is now in its next temporary location. 

I often think that the desire to keep things the way they are is just around the corner and someday I'll be content to just sit back and enjoy the changing of the seasons, changing the radio station and changing my daily calendar page.  Bwahahahahaha (hysterical evil laugh).  As IF!!