even cameron said he stepped on the line

We had a spirited discussion in YW yesterday, not about pants or gender equality, but about how I refused to make them sandwiches with Miracle Whip.  It offends me to even type Miracle Whip, I hate it so much.  I would rather eat a dry sandwich or no sandwich at all than a sandwich befouled by that demon pretender to the condiment throne.

We got out our Playmobil nativity set last night, and just in time, because the children were running out of stupid things to fight about.  For a while they pretended to be doctors examining imaginary stool samples from the wise men, then they moved all the capes and hair and beards around and had a lovely time making Mary into a bearded lady.  I used to get more upset about this kind of thing, because I felt like maybe it was sacrilegious, but now eh.  I think there's space between the actual Holy Family and plastic toy incarnations of them.

Grant lost his handball game today and is sad.

Emmett has a piano Master Class today and is happy.

Ike is being a melodramatic wuss about his minor cough, and is happy about the attention.

Willa got to play Super Mario on the DS and is happy.

ate an a- a- apple, blew some b- b- bubbles

I guess I'd better check in and let the universe know how our family is doing.  WE'RE DOING FINE, UNIVERSE.  BUT I'D LIKE IT IF THE KIDS WOULD STOP FIGHTING.

We bought a Christmas tree this year, from the nursery, because my parents are going to be in Australia for half of December, and didn't want the hassle and mess, and we figured if they weren't going to harvest a tree, neither were we.  I didn't like paying almost fifty bucks for something I could have chopped down myself, but I did like not having to go into the woods and harvest it myself, because when you say, "Let's go cut down our Christmas tree," all I hear is "Let's go somewhere cold where there are no bathrooms."

John is wearing all nice clothes to work today because he's doing an interview with a DJ to get Voice Male's music on the Sunday program on her station.  He looks very nice when he dresses up.  I tease him, but I will say that he understands when he needs to look nice, so I don't really mind if he looks like a pig the rest of the time.  I look like a pig, why shouldn't he?  Tit for tat, as they say.

Grant is done with one league of basketball and about to start two more, as well as indoor soccer.  I didn't think this one through very clearly.  But a tired dog is a good dog, as they say.  I guess I can drive him all over creation if it keeps him out of mischief.  It's winter--what else am I going to do?  I HATE WINTER.

Emmett has started swim team and has his first meet on Saturday.  We bought him one of those fancy suits that look like compression shorts. He wore them to practice the other night and says he can tell he's much faster with them on.  He plays "The Little Drummer Boy" about a hundred times a day.

Ike is a full-fledged stuffed animal hoarder, and I am an enabler.  It makes gift-giving so easy!  He buried Willa's dead rabbit the other day, digging the hole all by himself.  Last night at our ward party he went up and sat down next to an older woman and had quite a lengthy conversation with her.  He is such an interesting child.

Willa had pinkeye and was a total pain in the butt about the eye drops.  She decorated most of the Christmas tree by herself, which made me happy and the boys angry.  She can finally give the proper answers to those brutal rhyming questions on her worksheets, and she can read a fair number of sight words.  When Grant was in kindergarten and I was even more of a parenting ignoramus than I am now, I was irritated that the learn-to-read books had pictures of the words they were learning.  "They'll just look at the picture and know that it says 'fox'!"  But now I think maybe they put the pictures there on purpose, so that in the future when the child encounters that assortment of letters they have a mental picture to refer to, and they will know, "Oh!  That assortment of letters means 'fox'."  I could be wrong.

I am going to bake twenty dozen ginger lemon sandwich cookies today.

they're first to see the sun, they must tell everyone

John was gone on a business trip all last week, and I came through it intact.  It wasn't nearly as terrible as it could have been, although my children did watch a lot more TV and play a lot more computer games than normal.  He was in Orlando for part of the time, and went to Islands of Adventure, where he discovered, on a ride he has already experienced, that he is a tiny bit arachnophobic.

I'm trying to write a novel in November.  It's going okay, but I'm only about 1/5 as far as I should be right now.  

Grant has been playing a lot of basketball lately, and he's quite good at practice or with our family, but once he gets on the court and people start really getting in his face he turns tentative and unsure of himself.  We keep telling him, "Mustache feeling!"  The Tick is such a good example of so many correct principles.  I appreciate him and the help he gives me in raising my children correctly.  

Emmett has started piano lessons with the same woman who taught me and all my sisters, and she is the best ever.  He came buzzing out of her house last week, jumped in the car and said, "SHE IS THE BEST PIANO TEACHER EVER."  He has gotten up early every day since then to practice the piano.  I know it won't last, but it sure is nice.  He wants to start doing swim team, which I think would be good for him.  He also had the best day ever at his program today, because they got  to pretend they were attending Hogwarts and had to buy all the stuff.  The only dark spot is that the rules of four-square are ever-changing, and vary from school to school, and he can hold forth at  prodigious length about the injustice and complexity of it all.  

Ike has started Cub Scouts, and he thinks it's the greatest thing ever.  He was tardy yesterday because he was talking to his first-grade teacher.  I guess it's probably time for him to start piano as well.  I don't see him as a long-term pianist.  Maybe a tuba player--tubist?  

Willa is progressing on those horrible yellow worksheets.  Having experienced the same kind of difficulty with two children now, I must conclude that the yellow worksheets are not a good fit for my children's learning style.  She throws a lot of tantrums, but she is also very sweet and kind and helpful, so I guess it's a wash.  

you better stop the things that you do

Here are some pictures from our California vacation.  We left on a Friday afternoon and the kids had found all of their Waldos before we even hit St. George.  I told them the story about how Brigham Young hated the steeple of the St. George temple, but they put it on anyway, and then after Brigham Young died lightning struck the steeple and burned it down.  I actually sang the story to the tune of "I Love to See the Temple" because I'm talented like that.  

We drove them down the Strip so they could see what a weird, wild place Las Vegas is.  They were suitably impressed by the architecture, especially Caesar's Palace.  

 Our boys enjoyed the ABYSMAL breakfast at our hotel in Henderson.

We went to Little Corona del Mar beach and looked at the tide pools.  They were pretty good.  I'm just glad we got a picture of Emmett crouching like Gollum. 

Ike is being rakishly handsome.  

Willa being a good sport about the many sharp rocks and her being shoeless.  She never quite got brave enough to touch an anemone.  

We found this weird bug about the size of a June bug crawling around on the patio of our rental house, which we quite enjoyed and would use again.  

Grant and Landon are psyched for Small World.  

Willa on the BORING carousel.  Lagoon's is way better.  Even King Triton's carousel has different kinds of sea creatures.  Get it together, Fantasyland!

Our children look like demons in the courtyard of Medieval Times.  

Emmett got barfy sick and missed out on a few days of our fun times.  Thank goodness we got those four-day tickets.  He finally got better and enjoyed the Lego store very much.  

This is the best picture we got of our whole family, thanks to Ike and Willa being weirdos.  

We even took a picture with some princesses, but only because the line was so short. Don't get me started on princesses.  

ESPECIALLY Ariel.  Ariel is probably my least favorite princess of all.  She's ungrateful and sells her most precious attribute to get the attention of an inconstant, weak-minded boy.  She and Eric deserve each other.  

I hate when my pictures won't rotate.  This is Willa's macaroni at the Cafe Orleans.  I am so easily pleased.  The slightest incremental improvement over blue box is much applauded, and this was quite good macaroni.  

And this is the Monte Cristo that I ate and enjoyed every bite of, but I think it might still be in my stomach.  John and Richard took the boys and Emma to the beach, and Jenny and I were there with just Kate and Willa, and I decided to seize the day, since it would probably be a long, long time before I was in Disneyland without so many kids that eating at a restaurant would bankrupt me.  So Jenny and I ate our terrible, wonderful sandwiches and saw our works that they were  good.  

It was a wonderful vacation.  The drive wasn't nearly as horrifying as I feared, we had a great house with plenty of room to kick around in, we were there with great friends, and we left right as Kate and Willa were starting to come apart from all their missed sleep.  Just the right amount of time.  I would do it again.  

just touch my cheek before you leave

I read an obnoxious comment on a blog the other day, in which someone made a comparison between a Mormon temple and the sorts of earthy temples you find in other countries, in which all are welcome, and snidely commented that the latter were closer to reality, reminding you of the spirit and inspiration to be found in everyday life, not just once a week, not and then said those sorts of temples were "inclusive, not exclusive."  I almost had an aneurysm, I was so annoyed.  First issue:  who ever implied that one can only feel close to God within the walls of a Mormon temple, or that feeling inspiration there precludes feeling inspiration elsewhere?  And yes, if there's one complaint I would have about Mormonism, it's that it only affects my life one day a week.  Give me a break.  Second issue:  yes, Mormons are very exclusive.  We don't want anybody in our temples.  That's why we send our young men and women out in droves to pester the living daylights out of everybody in every country of the world, trying to get them to join our church and get temple recommends.  Look, do you want to be in our temple, or do you want us to leave you alone?  Do you want us to try to involve you in our lives and culture, or do you want us to ignore you?  Because I keep hearing complaints from people who are mad that we try to make friends with them, but then when we stop they rant about how isolationist and priggish we are.  Make up your freaking minds already.  The Mormons I know, myself included, don't really care if you convert or not.  We just like talking to people.

Sorry about that, everyone.  My complaints do not represent the official views of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

All the youth of the temple district did a huge cultural celebration on Saturday night.  It was cheesy as can be, but so inspiring.  The kids worked so hard to get the program ready, and to see their bright, shining faces as they participated in something unlike anything your typical teenager would be doing, to see a complete lack of cynicism as they sang and danced, to see their total unity and dedication to doing their best, was awesome.  It was beautiful.  I was so proud of them.

We had our temple dedication on Sunday, which was wonderful.  If I were being flippant, I would say how nice it is that we no longer have to share our temple with the unwashed heathens who think they are as holy as we are, but I'm not flippant, so I won't say that.  I finally found the bumblebees in the peach blossoms on the ceiling of the sealing room.  It took me forever.  I can't tell you how much it tickles me that there are bumblebees in the sealing room.  The dedication was beautiful, and it was a very unique and moving experience to be inside the temple for the occasion.  To feel such a sense of camaraderie and again, unity, with the people all around us--it brought tears to my eyes.  Mormons can be jerks, just like everybody else, but at our best, we're also people who are struggling to overcome our human failings and become better servants of Christ.  It's cool to be with my people in a room that reminds us of our purpose.

made their understanding clear

Well, it's been a month of Sundays (not sure if this is technically true) since I did any pictures.  Here are some.  

 One time I made a chicken pot pie for dinner.  There was much rejoicing.  

Grant made some banana bread from our new favorite recipe, found in the comments section of one of Tipsy's posts.  

We went to the annual Brigham Implement customer appreciation breakfast.  

Rex and Groceries ate some food.   

 Ike was jazzed about something.  

 Ike and Willa were ragamuffins who love animals, and Groceries thought he was people.  

We grew some wheat.  

but you don't need to use the claw when you pick a pear from the big pawpaw

My friend Jennifer, whom you may know better as the Tipsy Baker, was here this weekend with her father to go on a tour of the temple.  I am quite fond of our little temple, and I was excited to share it with her.  I'm glad we've been able to usher and clean and take care of it, because it's made me feel much more proprietary of it, like that fish with the bubbles in Finding Nemo.

Saturday was Ike's baptism, and it was delightful.  When John finished saying the prayer and started to dunk him, Ike just started to do it himself, without plugging his nose or anything, like, "I've got this, Dad.  Just let me do it."  John was pushing Ike's hand up to his face to get him to plug his nose, and Ike kept pushing his hand away, and they sort of struggled back and forth like people in movies when they clash swords, until Ike figured out what was going on.  It's always an adventure when we have a baptism.  When Emmett was baptized John forgot to confirm him a member of the church, so we had to do it over.  A bunch of our family was missing from the baptism and/or luncheon, so I hate them now.  I will not be leaving any of them a goat in my will.  Well, maybe Steven and Elizabeth, because they were valiant and came up for the baptism even though they had to leave right after.  Half a goat for them.

Grant got a spot on our neighbor's basketball team, which is a relief.  Todd (we call him Toddles, but not to his face, because he might think we are weird, which is not true) is such a great coach, very patient and kind, and since Grant's other coach is moving we were sort of at loose ends.

Emmett is on the student council at the elementary school, which means he's one of the kids who turned in an application.  He's already beginning to see that the majority of the people have no interest in self-governance!

Willa's rake fell out again, but I think she's fixed.  She hasn't been putting her hands in her mouth at all.  Hopefully she'll be busy enough writing letters and cutting out shapes that she won't have time to regress.

taste the soup

Our lesson this Sunday is on dating and living a virtuous life, which is fraught with danger, but I feel fairly secure in the hands of my Laurels adviser.  She's a smart, good lady who agrees with me in large part about how and what we should teach our girls.  I get awfully tired of people thinking that our  responsibility to do right by each other means that we are then responsible when people choose to misbehave.  I get tired of girls being told not to give in to peer pressure, except when "a worthy young man" tells her how she should act and dress. Why should his opinion matter more than her other friends', or hers, or Heavenly Father's?  Answer:  it shouldn't.  Pfft.  I get tired of immodesty being explained as how someone dresses, not how they behave.  I get tired of the idea that a young woman should strive to be virtuous for the benefit of young men, not herself. There are some weird folk doctrines that bounce around in our youth curriculum, and I'm going to do my best to replace them with truth.  Wish me luck.

We're doling out fines and bonuses for this week's pay period.  It may surprise you to learn that all of the children tend to earn more fines than bonuses.  Some of this week's fines include being creepy to siblings, licking toys, and lazy dishwashing.

Last night I was ushering at the temple, and I got to be in the Celestial room with my parents for a couple of hours.  It was very nice.  I've got to say, the Brigham City temple is one of the most beautiful I've ever seen.  It reminds me in places of the Salt Lake temple.  I feel so bad for the Logan temple, because it's so incredible outside, and just awful in places on the inside, with terrible ceiling tiles and bizarre traffic patterns.  I've always wanted my kids to be sealed there, because so many generations of our family have, but the Brigham temple would not be a bad substitute.

dad is great, give us the chocolate cake

I am giving a lesson in YW on Sunday about nutrition/Word of Wisdom and substance abuse.  I am so stoked!  Oh boy, I am going to make those teenage heads SPIN.

what is with all the spiders?

I swear our nine months on/three months off school schedule is inspired, because right about the time I think I'm going to spontaneously combust from the sheer irritation of having my kids around me all the time, fighting and teasing and begging and talking and laughing, boom.  School starts.  Then when I can't take another day of forcing them out of bed, making breakfast and lunch at the same time, and willing them out the door just in time to barely catch the bus, boom.  School's out again.  It's a miracle.  I love those little monsters, and the time we spend both with and without each other is vital.  They were all just as ready as I was for school to start, and now here I sit, practically an empty nester.  They were so cute getting on the bus this morning.  Willa was worried last night about going to school with people she doesn't know, but we reminded her that she didn't know her preschool friends at first, either.  Ugh, girl problems.  It's going to be a party. 


I gave the boys haircuts yesterday so they'd look all fresh and nice for the first day of school.  They're pretty handsome.  I'd love to show you a picture of how cute they all looked this morning, even though Willa's hair wasn't combed yet, but that stupid cord that transfers pictures has gone missing again, of course, so I guess you'll just have to imagine it. 


Last night for our last hurrah we got some shower curtains at Ikea, then picked John up from work and got Real Tacos for dinner and ate them on the lawn at the Utah State Capitol.  Then we went inside and looked around the building, which is old and opulent and gorgeous.  My kids hadn't been inside it before, and they were suitably impressed.  Then we got Nielsen's frozen custard, and all was right with the world.

how dare you try to ruin my education? I am like the family's greatest athlete

Well, I am the new YW president in our ward.  I'm pretty excited about it, not even being sarcastic.  I really like our girls, and I want to indoctrinate them a little bit.  I want them to go out and grab the world by the . . . let's say "tail."  I want them to be smart, capable, confident girls who don't take crap from anybody.  I believe they are our future, and I want to show them the beauty they possess inside or some garbage.  I am going to need a time-turner for this next year, until I'm unshackled from PTA.  But I can do it; all I have to do is manage my time effectively, which is not even a problem for me.

Last Monday we took Grant to the earnosethroat doctor so they could remove his tubes and vacuum out his ears.  We had to give him the silly medicine or he would have fought us all to the death.  They sucked a bunch of pus out of his ear, which was awesomely gross, and he said a lot of stupid things while he was loopy, just like I hoped he would.

Emmett thinks he wants to be on the swim team this year.  I will have to think about it, just because this year is already going to be so hairy.  But he hates any other kind of physical exertion, so it would be good for him.    If I can get him a spot with my high school piano teacher I could kill two birds with one stone.

Ike is going to be baptized in time to go to the Brigham City temple dedication, which is cool.  Too bad Willa waited so long to be born, or she could be part of the fun too. We'll need to make sure we give Ike some good attention for his baptism, so he doesn't feel like the sad, forgotten third child.  I sometimes wonder if that's why he's so huggy.  Maybe he feels a little love-starved.

Willa has her rake in and doesn't suck her fingers, since she can't without getting metal spikes poked into her fingers.  So far she hasn't replaced finger-sucking with a different self-soothing behavior like pulling out her eyebrows, so that's good.  The rake makes her talk funny, like she's wearing a retainer.  "Slurp slurp, can I have some peaches, slurp slurp."  I think we'll leave it in until a while after school starts, so we can make sure that the new routine doesn't make her nervous and start her sucking again.

John and I have been married for almost fourteen years, and last weekend we did a celebratory overnighter in Salt Lake.  We took dancing lessons because we are festive and also sucky dancers.  Normally I try to lead, because I don't trust him, and then we just step all over each other.  We'll probably start competing any time now, and I'll get one of those dresses with the netting and strategically-placed sequins that make you look like you're naked.  Something real classy.

some must push and some must pull

Our ward and the other two wards in our town did a pioneer trek last week, and John and I were a Pa and Ma for it.  We did it once before when we lived in Lehi, and it was such tremendous fun that we jumped at the chance to do it again.  Plus I am descended on two sides from people who were in the rescue party that went after the Willie and Martin handcart companies, so it was a good chance for me to reflect on how I'm doing, and if I've lived my life such that I could be depended on to go after someone who's struggling.  Maybe not, because we got dynamite kids assigned to us.  Maybe Heavenly Father knew if I got weaklings I'd crush their tentative little testimonies.  There's nothing so bad that complaining won't make it worse, and I'd be all, "Here's how it's going to go down.  Shut up.  Stop being a baby.  Start pushing this handcart, or we're going to send you home."  I am not so much with the nurturing, and I cannot abide a whiner.  I mean, it's not like they're eating two ounces of flour and having their hair freeze to the ground or their frostbitten feet chopped off with a butcher knife.  Some idiot kid was prowling around every night throwing dirt clods at tents and stealing stuff (maxi pads, even--just stealing to steal, then, are we?) and of course there were people shouting and carrying on until late at night, and girls trying to sleep in the boys' tents (all of these in other people's families), but all in all we had very few problems.  We walked fifteen miles on the first day, seven miles on the second, and only three miles on the third so we could return the handcarts.  And I didn't die or get dehydrated or get blisters or NUTHIN.  Go me! 

I love treks because it's so interesting to see how adversity, even minimal, manufactured adversity, affects people.  Some people start out as pukes and reform, some start out awesome and turn into pukes, some are awesome from start to finish, and some go home the same puke they were when they left, only they've annoyed way more people than usual.  I was really pleased with our little trek family.  My favorite people in the world are the ones who just do what they're supposed to with a good attitude, and that's what they did.  They pushed the handcart all day long, and as they pushed they sang.

Grant went too, since he's over twelve now, and he seemed to enjoy himself.  Of course he's too young to really grasp what a feat the handcart migration was, but there were enough opportunities to think about why they did what they did, and the importance of eternal families, that maybe some of it sank in. 

and flagged the train

Grant's new soccer team won a tournament last week.  It was gratifying.

Willa is getting her dental rake put in today.  She is going to be so angry.

Emmett sprained his wrist in a bike crash.  He is healing.

Ike is unharmed, but sulky if he doesn't get his way.  We are reading Charlotte's Web with him, and he is going to be A MESS at the end.

We had a fantastic family vacation on a ranch last week, and I want to move there.

wherein I vainly brag about my family's ability to feed ourselves

On Saturday night we had a dinner to celebrate John's parents' 50th wedding anniversary.  The food was not that great, to be honest.  We are some pretty talented cooks in John's family, and so we were not impressed by the breaded chicken cutlets topped with deli ham and congealed Swiss cheese, the Hollandaise sauce that tasted like it had been made with Miracle Whip, the grocery-store rolls, and the dry, bland chocolate cake with frosting that tasted like it also had been made with Miracle Whip, sitting in an ill-considered puddle of half-heartedly smashed strawberries.  The beef was okay, if a little tough and Gravy Trainlike in appearance.

But the mediocrity of the food ensured that we didn't sit around making indecent grunts with our mouths filled with food, exclaiming thickly, "Oh, this is so good" (as would usually be the case), so that we were free to focus on the purpose for the gathering, which was to celebrate my in-laws' marriage.  Daniel and Sarah had put together a video of pictures from their lives, and we watched as they grew up, got married, and proceeded to have eight difficult, exhausting, brilliant and ultimately fantastic and delightful children.  They are incredible people and I'm so thankful to know them and to have been welcomed into their family--our family.  I've told this story countless times, but the first time I saw John's dad was in my college choir.  He was the assistant director at the time, and I looked at him and thought, "What a handsome grandpa.  I need to be in his family."  I looked around and saw John and thought, "Okay.  This will work."  They are the other half of my family I didn't know I was looking for, and I can't imagine life without the whole shouting, laughing, pontificating lot of them.

We went to church together on Sunday in their ward, and the guy who gave the closing prayer in Sunday School was killing me.  I was elbowing John like, "Are you listening to this guy?" First of all, it was so long, more like a talk than a prayer, and then he was using it as a forum for airing of grievances.  Like, he actually said, in the prayer, that we are thankful to not be like "those other so-called Christians" who don't understand things like "individual responsibility."  As Daniel pointed out, we barely finished reading about the Zoramites' Rameumptom prayer, and talk about an apt object lesson.  Then there was a lady whose toddler was a hellion and was running up and down the rows screaming and shouting and it was impossible to hear anything that was going on (except the conceited prayer, obv), and the mother just sat there and beamed at him and tickled him until he guffawed whenever he passed her.  I told myself that she'd struggled with infertility and it took forever to conceive him, so every noise he makes is a jewel to her.  That's how I kept from pointedly glaring at her with my eyes bugging out with annoyance.  Look, my kids are loud.  You know that.  I don't care if a kid is loud, as long as you participate in the charade that you are trying to subdue them somewhat.  You have to at least pretend.  It's part of the social contract.

overheard

Grant:  "I wish I had a giant vascular sac for a head."

running in the daytime

I wrote a post about how Grant won a 2.5k race last Saturday.  It got erased.  But he did win, which was nice.  His basketball and soccer teams lose every game they play, so it was gratifying to see his face flushed with victory.

The End.

and I will always be that way

Last night we went to The Secret World of Arrietty at the dollar theater (excellent film, highly recommend, especially if you have girls who you worry about having their brains eaten by the princess culture, shut up princess culture).  Then we got some "food" at a "restaurant;" we will not speak of it.

We came home to our filthy house--filthy because I had been working outside and birthday shopping (for Emmett) while the kids were at school, and also because we are pigs--and on the counter was a plate of cookies from Emmett's primary teacher.  Now, this is not about me, this is about the people in our ward, but I do feel sad that the scene that greeted Yvonne, who is a very neat and collected person, was three overflowing baskets of laundry on the living room couch and a kitchen in which every horizontal surface was covered in dirty dishes.  But I love that we came home to cookies.  What a wonderful place to live.  What wonderful people!  I just want to squeeze Yvonne to pieces.  She is so great, and writes letters to thank people who speak in Sacrament, and birthday cards to the children in her Primary class, and she bears a humble, insightful testimony almost every month.  On Sunday I was sitting in church listening to people bear their testimonies, and I had an overwhelming sense of the goodness of my friends and neighbors.  We are surrounded by such kind, selfless, hardworking and generous people.

Yes, I know, I was just saying on the other blog that I hate my town.  Well, that day I did.  Believe me, I did.  But on Sunday I was reminded how much I love it here.

with the pumped-up kicks

When we were driving home from church after Grant was ordained a deacon, he was trying to get Willa to share her candy she got in church (because she ALWAYS gets candy in church--how are we supposed to have fat children if we don't give them candy every hour of every day?), and she was not loving the idea. So Grant says, "Willa! I was just ordained!" Not like he was exercising unrighteous dominion or anything, just like it was his birthday, and he needed a present. Oh, how we laughed.

When I got home from picking Willa up from preschool today the neighbor kids and their cousins were in our backyard. They wanted to hold the bunnies and play with the goats and chase the chickens, and that was all fine, but I needed to do work and feed Willa lunch, and I started feeling irritated that they were hanging around and messing up my schedule. So then I had this conversation with myself:

Me: "Is it going to kill you to keep an eye on a few kids for a little while? You know, sacrifice brings blessings, and if you serve begrudgingly you don't get the blessings."

Me: "FINE. It's not that bad. I'm not really watching them anyway."

Me: "See? I told you."
Me: "But if I'm not put out about it, it's not really a sacrifice, which means I'm not going to get blessings, anyway. I want them to leave now."

We went and looked at the Bingham Copper Mine yesterday. It was a really big, deep hole in the ground, with big trucks hauling crap out of it. Did you know that Tiffany gets their gold from the Bingham Copper Mine? That's what my mom said she heard on TV. Maybe it's true.

all now mysterious shall be bright at last

Yesterday we were singing "Be Still My Soul" in church and I started crying. I didn't do it on purpose, it's just "Finlandia" is a really beautiful song, and it's all tied up with sad and happy memories. I couldn't help it!

On our way to Lehi last night to have Sunday dinner with Sandi and Kerry we played numerous games of mash, which were illuminating. For example, Ike wants to be a server at the Cracker Barrel. Emmett wants to be a long-distance trucker. Grant wants to be Captain America. Willa wants to be a caker maker. I want to be an otter trainer. John wants to be a career guidance counselor.

I cut all the boys' hair on Saturday so they wouldn't all look like they were convicts wearing Incredible Hulk wigs. Grant was ordained a deacon, so I wanted everybody to look sharp. Of course he's very excited that he gets to go to two extra hours of General Conference next week.

I hate PTA. Not because it's a lot of work, but because there is this one lady who I think is confused about how important her job is, and I think she maybe thinks she's President President, not PTA President. I had a meeting with her last week, and she is exhausting. It's not the lady I work with, thank goodness. My president is very chill. But that other lady is a trip.

I'd rather be a hammer than a nail

Willa has started sneaking away again.

Ike is having trouble with a kid at school. This kid does not who he's fooling with. I have given Ike my permission to punch the kid in the face. Diplomacy is not always the right solution. I'm not trying to be flippant; it's the truth. You can't reason with unreasonable people.

Emmett and Grant like to play piano duets--the same song on different octaves.

I am having substantial difficulty getting people to agree to help with PTA. I hope they like it next year when a bunch of stuff disappears, because I refuse to be the doormat who did everybody's job who was too lazy to help.

John has started playing basketball on Saturday mornings to keep himself from dying of a heart attack. So far so good.

merrily on our way to nowhere in particular

Baaaah, look what we saw yesterday!

I was gibbering like a nincompoop. They are only my favorite animal in the whole entire world.

We went to the Living Planet Aquarium because the kids didn't have school. It was a little expensive for what you got, but we did see a lot of very cool things, and everybody got to touch a stingray. I would like bigger displays and more critters.

truly scrumptious, you're truly scrumptious

Some highlights from our trip to FHE tonight.

1. We forgot Willa, and were just about to the freeway entrance when Ike said, "Where's Willa?" She was wandering around in the garden, and didn't even know she'd been left behind.
2. I kept shouting at people to be quiet and listen because we were reading the scriptures.
3. We learned a new game that I like very much, and better yet, it doesn't involve being hit on the head while your eyes are closed.
4. We had a thought-provoking discussion about whether or not Cro-Magnon peoples will be a servant class in the hereafter; whether or not that would be fulfilling their divine destiny.
5. I read the story of "The Sleeping Beauty" to the children, and was reminded that in my copy there is a lovely addendum to the story that involves the prince's mother being an ogress who tries to eat Sleeping Beauty (who is never given a name) and her children, but is prevented from doing so, then perishes horribly in a vat of toads, vipers, snakes and serpents. It's very thrilling!

We don't have school tomorrow, and I'm not prepared. I'm pretty sure we're going to waste the entire day. Maybe I'll take them to a matinee.

but said she this butter's bitter

Emmett got what may or may not have been strep throat on Saturday. He's such a gigantic drama queen anytime he gets sick ("It feels like my neck is being chopped with an axe!"), who can say what was wrong with him? He was just on an antibiotic for strep a month ago, and I was not going to take him in again. But he refuses to take the home remedies we usually use for this, because he doesn't like the taste of garlic and honey and cayenne pepper mixed together. Baby. The outlook wasn't good, but with creative cooking, juicing, and judicious application of Satan's plan we were able to get a bunch of the necessary things into him, and he woke up fine this morning. Even so he's still going to want to go to Lee's Mongolian for dinner tonight, because he has blind, trusting faith in the curative properties of the Mongolian stir-fry.

Last Friday the PTA provided a luncheon and took the classes for a half hour so the teachers could have a leisurely meal all together. I took Emmett's class, and there was this crazy kid who was saying to his friend, "Your argument is clearly based on conjecture." He was not quoting, that's just the way he talks. I only had them for five minutes after they came back from art and before they went to lunch, but it was exhausting. Fourth-graders are old enough to smell blood in the water when there's a substitute, and they were just this side of mutiny until I made them say tongue twisters, which didn't start out as a vanity project, but became one when I blew the doors off the joint with my flawless rendition of "Betty Botta."

be sure to wear some flowers in your hair

We had another round of parent/teacher conferences, which are now called SEPs. I think it stands for Student, Educator, Parent, which is a smurfy name, and people are just going to keep calling them parent/teacher conferences.

Ike is a sweet, loving boy who is above the benchmarks for all those weird skills they talk about like nonsense word fluency and phoneme segmentation or something like that. He broke a pair of scissors today (he says accident) but came clean about it, and his teacher was proud of him. Speaking objectively, he's one of the best and smartest kids in that class.

Emmett got all good grades like Ike, and also an N (for Needs Improvement) because he is always, always talking. Talking out of turn, talking during work time, talking over other people, always talking. Basically he needs to shut up, and I'm like, "Tell me about it, sister." But it's apparent that his teacher likes him very much, and how could she not? He is a happy, fun little boy with an unslakable thirst for knowledge.

There was a woman there at the school with a display about Body Safety (i.e. not being touched inappropriately), so I decided to have a refresher discussion with the kids about the different kinds of touching and what to do about it if someone is a perv. They were all certain they'd tell (they actually said they'd break the person's spine, which shows that they're full of untapped vengeance, just like their mom!), and when I said that people will spend time getting kids to like and trust them so they won't tell, Emmett said, "I wouldn't have trouble telling on anybody." He's right. He is a way big narc. Narcing keeps us safe!

Grant's report was good, too, from what I hear. John kept the appointment because I was busy cooling my heels with the YW in the Logan Temple, getting yelled at by the towel lady. I almost had to go to Sam's Club with them and eat pizza, which would break at least two of my personal creeds, but then I had to get home so John could rehearse.

Willa had an ear infection yesterday, and I pulled out all the stops in my arsenal of Witch Doctory. Echinacea in glycerin, vitamin C with rose hips and pomegranate, "children's tonic" (all thanks to Magic Wendy), massage of the ears, jaw and neck with coconut oil and store-brand VapoRub, heating pad with eucalyptus oil, abundant fluids, all that stuff, repeated ad nauseam throughout the day. I said if she were still in pain this morning I would take her in to the doctor. I just hate putting her on antibiotics. She was on them a month or so ago, and I can't chance another course. At this point her digestive system works about as well as a used Kleenex, and I'm certain it's because of that nine-month nightmare of constant antibiotics trying to get a rash on her cheek cleared up when she was a toddler. I would never ever go back in time because it was bad enough the first time, but if I did, that would be a time I would revisit, and I would not do those antibiotics. Luckily she woke up fit as a fiddle this morning with only a little residual soreness in her ear, and copious amounts of residual coconut oil and VapoRub in her hair. Alternative medicine triumphs once again! I guess we'll probably start handling snakes pretty soon.

kids prophesy the darnedest things

Willa, holding the Book of Mormon and pretending to read from it: "Long ago the fathers had animals. But they couldn't keep the animals, because they were Jesus animals. And they were just humans. And the Lord said the aliens were bad. And they never saw their friends again. The end."

bringing something we must learn

Grant got braces yesterday. We had a celebration the night before with chewy pizza and corn on the cob and popcorn and sticky candy, before he went into the treat desert. He looks and talks mostly the same, but a little different. He is growing up. Aww, Li'l Brudder! Here he is:

Tooth-brushing is a whole different breed of cat now, a much more time-consuming and complicated breed of cat.

Willa and I get along really well when we aren't fighting. She throws the most ridiculous tantrums I have ever seen. I don't think any of our other kids have been this bratty, but John says they have. Well, I hope she grows up to be as nice as she currently is mean, and she'll be a joy. Here is a picture of us watching some cookies bake:

I help with Ike's class once a week, and there are lots of things that make me disappointed in my fellow parents. There's the acrylic nails I mentioned, but also a bunch of the kids can't read very well, and I've interacted enough with them to know that they're not dumb kids. Pretty much their parents are failing them, whether through necessity or laziness or a combination of the two.

another opening of another show

We had a vacation with my family over MLK weekend. It's the way we always celebrate MLK. We rent a cabin in Porterville and spend the weekend saying and thinking rude things when the extended proximity causes us and our children to get on each other's nerves. Kidding! But not really.

We eat good food and play games and have fun together. This year we had an Iron Chef-style cookoff which was humiliating for me, because my lava cake ended up being more like a pudding sauce. Plus it was so rich and sweet that I hated it a little bit. The secret ingredients were cocoa powder, pretzels, and cream cheese. We had to use at least two of them. Justine and Cannon won, because they made doughnuts. The rest of us were hopelessly outclassed.

Normally we try to get a family photo while we're there, so I was glad that we already had our family photos done during the Christmas break, because it meant I didn't have to cut my kids' hair and pack a bunch of possible picture outfits.

It's very generous of my parents to do this, and they seem to have a good time, even though they're forced to interact with us lazy buggers and not do any work--I think the weekend just about kills my dad. He does not care for downtime.

Here are some pictures.

I wanna rock right now

Willa and Hadley, the neighbor girl: "We got chased by a dog on our way home!"
Me: "What color was it?"
Hadley: "Rainbow-colored."
Me: "That sounds like an interesting dog."
Willa: "Yeah. He just wanted some ham and water."

fourth quarter earnings

Probably the biggest news from Christmas is that we got some fairly decent family pictures taken (for free) by my brother-in-law Nate, who has a nice camera, a good eye, and enough patience to not murder our family with a heat ray when they keep acting like dummies and complaining about having family pictures taken (for free). I think the pictures are as good as we could possibly expect, and the only way to improve them would be for us to be more attractive and less rubber-faced.

Christmas was perfect. Everybody got a present they felt very pleased about. John's favorite present was a new phone and the Faygo vanilla cream soda I bought that didn't get here until the 30th. My favorite present was a new phone and a cookbook of my grandma's recipes (I cried). Grant's favorite present was a Hagrid's Hut Lego set. Emmett's favorite present was a snap circuit board. Ike's favorite present was a stuffed tiger. Willa's favorite present was a dollhouse that looks like this:It is fearsomely cute, and she has played with it constantly. I also made her a Paducah doll that looks like this:
My granny learned to make Paducah dolls when she and my great-grandpa were on a mission in Paducah, Kentucky. Where is Paducah, Kentucky, you might ask? Halfway between Possum Trot and Monkey's Eyebrow, that's where. We have four generations of Paducah dolls now. They are adorable, with movable arms and legs and cute little baby-shaped bodies, but somewhat challenging to make for someone with my sewing and embroidering abilities. I am extremely proud of my Paducah doll.

We had a party on New Year's Eve, like always. Here are the people who came:
We ate food and played Jackstraws and Dominion. Dominion is hard and I lost.

I am excited about the new year. My goal is to be a better steward of my time.