it's about time one of you lugheads said it!

Recent events from our house:
Pinga was sad! Because she will go outside without a coat or shoes. We're thinking of tying her to a stake in the kitchen so she can just pace around like a vicious dog.
It was Christmas! We scaled way back on the presents and it was a ton better. So much less stress and greed and nonsense. We're never going back. Unless we change our minds and want more stuff.
My visiting teacher brought over a goody basket that I never saw! Captain America looked through it and appropriated the good parts for regifting. He put the cheese ball and Wheat Thins in a gift bag and gave them to me on Christmas, two weeks later. This is the cheese ball.

it's no who hash, that's for sure

I have a bellyache from all the gingerbread dough I've eaten today. I barely had room for candy! Here are some action shots from my phone. The kids all did a great job. They stayed focused and were well-behaved, and it wasn't until we were leaving that Superman just started grabbing handfuls of candy and shoving them into his chimney (not a euphemism).
They love it and I love it and it (mostly) makes up for the fact that Pinga is probably going to be vomiting all night from the sugar bomb she has in her stomach.

thanksgiving is for children

Thanksgiving was yummy and full of laughter and shouting. Then on Friday, per tradition, we set off into the woods to extract our Christmas trees from the wilderness. This year we didn't have to drive nearly so long to get to the wilderness, so thumbs up. It's a good tradition, because when you're in the woods almost nobody gets trampled to death by a crowd of disgusting pukes who value low-priced garbage more than human life. Not that I'm judging.

Pinga chillaxin' with Ron.

Pinga being cute.

Captain America being pensive.

Superman being devious.

The Hulk getting ready to pound his little sister.

There used to be a video here of someone purposely tripping someone else's kid, but I had to take it off because one of the parties refused to sign the release form, and since said party is a minor, I didn't want any other misdemeanors on my permanent record.

my husband the guy who made those cookies that one time

This is John saying, "Yeah, I made them. So what?"

John made cookies for his home teaching families tonight, almost by himself. He made the old-school chocolate chip cookies we used to make when we were unenlightened. He sprayed flour all over the mixer cart, but it's okay, because he dustbusted it like Grandma Maxine would want.

I couldn't really recognize them as food, because it's been so long since we used white flour and white sugar in our cookies. Ha! Reading this post is totally like, "Food snob much?" Sorry about that--I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are. They were good.

They're so pale! They look sad and anemic!

my roommate nick is an ignorant baldhead

Sorry that all we seem to talk about is Pinga, but she provides such great pictures! Her naturally curly hair is the source of much entertainment.
She has the best bed head of any kid I know. It's like she goes to sleep a child and wakes up as Ras Pinga.

she cleans up nice

I think I owe myself some redemption. Here's what Pinga looks like sometimes, specifically church times: Pretty, huh? She takes after me.

another industrial ugly morning

You know when you go to the grocery store and there's some kid there with a snotty nose, hair all rumply and ratted, probably in character pajamas, and when there are shoes they aren't on top of socks? I used to--and still do, actually--think mean things about the parents of those children. The Oompa-loompas knew it: you can't blame the children in a case like that. Rather you must point the long, thin claw of accusation at the parents who are so lazy or neglectful or ignorant of societal mores that they will take their precious lamb out into the world looking totally unloved.

It's one of my refrains during hair-combing, bathing, fingernail-cutting, and dressing times. "Come here so I can make you look like somebody loves you." But I have four kids now, and I am tired. So this is what happens:

small minds talk about people, great minds jump on beanbags

As John and I have gotten older we have also grown more sophisticated. We put aside childish things and behave in a manner befitting such highly-esteemed members of society. For example:

A night of scholarly endeavors.

halloween 2009 reportkien

Here is Halloween. I tell you, that monkey costume has paid for itself and then some. All four of my kids have worn it and looked awesome doing it.

Pinga was pretty stoked that she could get to her fingers for the few seconds before we pinned her sleeves shut.

Superman refuses to wear any other signifiers of vampirehood. He threw a fit when I tried to give him a widow's peak.

The Hulk wanted to be a skeleton for the third year in a row, but we strong-armed him into wearing a costume that actually fits him.

Captain America was Indiana Jones again, because he tried telling me the day before Halloween that he wanted to be a werewolf. When I have soup and bread to make and a huge long paper to edit? Not bloody likely.

Here is my lame Sea Captain costume. I do think my sideburns turned out nice, though.

We didn't get any pictures of John, which is a pity, because he wore some very convincing horns and went as a Mormon.

Here is Captain America making English Rock Face.

Troy as too many servings.

I don't know why the rest of us even bother dressing up, because Claire and Nate's costumes are always so much better than ours that we just end up looking like idiots. This year they were dressed as Wild Things, and Norah was Max.

Like Nate needs to be any taller.

Pinga screamed and screamed when she saw them. Probably because she was jealous.

Aleece and Dave were tire mechanics and Lucy was the Michelin man, but I guess John doesn't love them very much, because we don't have any individual pictures of them. Here we are all together, though, minus Justine and Norah and Lucy (I stole this picture from Nate and Claire--suckers!).

she's got that hole, hole, hole, hole down in her cheek (where?) down in her cheek todaaaaay!

Pinga's bloody cheek hole is getting out of hand, so we're trying again. John thinks that Daniel would refuse to cast both of her arms, because it's child abuse to cast an uninjured arm (untrue), so here are the defense systems in place:
1. Tegaderm on her cheek
2. pink nightmare pajamas
3. on backwards
4. with the arms sewn shut
5. and the neck safety pinned to be too small to allow her shoulders through

Here's hoping.

are you a pre-op transcentaur?

We had Stake Conference this weekend, and there were some very helpful and damning talks given. Turns out that if you wear leggings to the temple, you're supposed to wear a dress on top of them! That goes to your knees! Boy, was I glad I didn't wear my cheetah-print leggings to the meeting. Not that I would have. I've only worn them to church once, and though they were under a totally legit skirt, I guess if I really think about it perhaps it was bad form.

We were also told that we should serve others, and it will help us forget our troubles. I don't know about that, though. It sounds a little out there to me. I think I'll keep focusing inward and see how that works out. I bet in the long run I'll be glad I didn't entangle myself with my fellow human beings and all their exhausting personal problems.

Here's my favorite song:

at least he was drawing, not setting his desk on fire

Captain America may have set a new personal record--he's gotten two pink slips already this school year, and it's been, what, a month and a half? Maybe?
My dad told John a while ago that with their children, they "wouldn't have allowed it." Well, then. That's solved. See, the thing is, my parents were blessed with gifted, intelligent, compliant daughters who want nothing more than to be obedient until the cows come home. Also they are all really really ridiculously good-looking. Well, not really. But my parents are very firm and consistent, and they employed this thing called "teaching by example." What a drag, man! Who has the energy to behave well?

So anyway, the tactics that worked on my sisters and me haven't been as successful, shall we say, with my own aggressive researchers. I can attest vehemently that we've informed Captain America that bad behavior isn't permitted. Probably a mere several hundred thousand times, along with the spankings, revoking of privileges, essay writing, extra chore assignments and so on that we've tried one after the other to no avail.

Because I'm a self-absorbed drama queen and tend to think in superlatives, I feel bitter about this. I feel bitter that we read scriptures and limit TV and assign responsibilities and encourage self-governance, and still I have to deal with a child who gets more pink slips in a month than I got my entire school career. Why is everything the worst ever? What more could I have done for my vineyard?
Also The Hulk keeps rubbing his mouth and giving himself a rash, likewise Superman, and Pinga is still rocking the cheek hole she's determined to burrow into her mouth. Ear infections, swine flu and a messy house. WAH!
But now I feel guilty, since these are all first-world concerns and it makes me feel like a hateful entitled American to whine about it. So instead I will remember that I have a lovely family of usually healthy people, a house to live in, and do not have to cook meth to keep food on the table. Which is a real load off, because then I'd also have a bunch of dentist visits to worry about.

turns out that it takes a long time to drive from charlotte to charleston

We spent a lot of time in the van. But since we were mostly all in the same car for much of the trip we did okay. Minimal hair-pulling, and the people in the back seat only had to be told a few times to stop smoking and making out.

Our van full of weirdos. Not shown: Phil and Heidi, and Richard and Jen who were the navigators, bless their hearts.

Mike and Jo.

Mike likes vending machines. Too bad he's not blind, and he could help manage this rest stop.

So precious. Pinch our little cheeks.

There is a Mt. Pleasant there! But I bet they don't even know the difference between a show-quality carrot-snapping turkeysheep and one that's just grade.

On the way to the beach at Isle of Palms. Little did we know what was already brewing.

Okay, see the slightly impish look in Phil and Heidi's eyes?

Richard and Jen looking cute and completely family-friendly.

Me, freezing by myself, because John was chronicling the events. And look what events occurred!

Phil and Heidi! Elodie was right there and you could have put all kinds of salacious ideas in her mind! No wonder you had a baby so fast.

Richard and Jen contemplating the numberless sands of the sea.

The big white boat seen behind my odd face is the boat we took on our dinner cruise around Charleston Harbor.

John and me. He has really big hands, doesn't he? Tall boys are the best. Such a flattering accessory.

Mike and Jo, enjoying what they are afraid may be their last vacation.

Valerie, John and Elodie. Elodie didn't eat her grits, and I sort of wanted to beg for them, but then I got full.

Jen and Richard.

Heidi and Phil.

Jill and Mike.

On the boat there was a three-piece band who played the dinner and dancing music. Mike got some sort of bee in his bonnet and had what may have been an out-of-body experience during "Play That Funky Music." I'm astonished that he didn't rip himself in half when he did the splits. The cruise was a lot of fun, and very different from other things we've done. Good call, John Luthy.

Walking through Charleston. Right after this Mike tried to ruin Jenny's photo of a beautiful house by jumping through it, and there was a big dog in a car right next to him that almost came through the window and tore his throat out. He could have died! It was hilarious!

On the waterfront.

The Leaning Tower of Us.

Saturday night while the boys were doing their first concert the girls went shopping and got makeup and clothes. When we walked into the second concert our husbands were so taken aback by our gorgeousity that they put their microphones down and ran off the stage to plant big slobbery kisses on our mouths. Except for the part about where they even noticed us walking in.

After the concerts we went to the Swails' house for some incredible food. Mustardy barbecue the likes of which I have never seen or tasted, and a carrot cake that I would commit grand larceny for.

We poached Derek and Michelle's bed because we're princesses and can do what we bloody well please.

It was a lovely excursion, and we would be very interested in taking more trips together, if anyone out there wants to hire Voice Male for a concert--maybe in Hawaii?