Yeah...Well...You're Short

I called over a kindergartner to read to me today. I patted the seat next to me so he'd sit down. He scrunched up his face and sighed.

"When I'm close to you it makes me very nervous."

"What? Why do I make you nervous?"

"Because you are so old."

Maybe I smell like his great-grandma?

Love my job.

Taking Precautions

...and not taking any chances.



Happy Monday morning!

At least (so far) no dogs have gotten in the way.

Yeah...He's That Kid

It's the karmic circle of parenthood.

1. See others of this kind and mock them.

2. Believe that my own would never dress this way.

3. Realization and the holding of the tongue.

4. Acceptance.

5. See other people mock my son.

Cold Cereal and How My Family is Abusing It

We keep the cereal down on the bottom shelf of the closet pantry in the kitchen. We used to keep it in the two little half-cabinets above the stove until the boys were old enough to make their own bowls, and then I moved it down to where they could reach it. If they were going to eat 8 bowls a day, by golly, they could fix it themselves.


The shelf itself is pretty big, holding a 4 slice (2 that work) toaster, the canisters of regular and quick oats, a giant bag of add-water pancake mix, and a stack of plastic cereal bowls along with all the boxes of cereal.


That's right. ALL the boxes of cereal.

A dozen to be exact. All open. Some were duplicates.

When I investigated further, I found that seven of the boxes held maybe a quarter cup of cereal.




Not enough to be considered empty and thrown away, but not enough to fill a bowl either. And instead of pouring out the last few squares of Golden Grahams and then topping off the bowl from a new box, they (the kids) have been pushing the almost-but-not-quite-empty boxes to the back of the shelf and just bringing up another box from food storage.

Hence the 12 boxes of open cereal.

Do they not want to be accused of being the one who ate the last of something?

"Hey it's not all gone...saved those last 10 flakes for you!"

Do they believe the cereal "dust" is toxic?

Okay, I don't like the dust either, but now is not the time to be wasting food.

So I'm melting marshmallows and margarine and whipping up that classic after-school snack:
Rice Krispie/Cheerios/Golden Grahams/Frosted Mini Wheats/Crispix/Frosted Flakes/Cocoa Krispie/Cinnamon Life Treats.

A few extra marshmallows ought to hide all the dust.

Halloween and Stuff

Pumpkin carving

(in the nude)

It's a family tradition

At least for Cam it is. I can't get that kid to wear clothes around the house for anything. Perhaps I need to turn down the thermostat?

Halloween was a little different this year: Cam officially declared his independence and went out with just his friends. I can't even tell you what they were...three guys in black robes, maybe?

Aaron (after practically fasting and praying over it) decided to go with Troy on the road. He was immensely happy, so I think he chose well. Cam generously agreed to share his loot.

But that left me, alone with Oliver, to do the whole door thing. And Oliver doesn't do well with the whole door thing. It bothers him terribly that others would dare cross our doorstep, let alone ring the doorbell. The barking can be ear piercing, but I couldn't put him away in a bedroom - he'd still hear it and that would make him anxious.

Oliver + anxiety = liquified bowels.

Yes, there is a story behind that equation. No, I won't share it. I'm still in therapy.

So it was a 2 valium night for my Ollie.

He slept soundly in his crate (in the front room with me), then he'd wake and try his best to bark whenever the doorbell sounded.

I ate candy, surfed the internet, answered the door, and occasionally called Cam to make sure he was okay. Aaron checked in every once in a while from Arizona, reporting that they were 15 miles from the border and hauling a 53 foot trailer of jalapenos. I joked that they better not crash with trucks hauling tomatoes and onions -- that would be SALSA!

Gone, gone, gone are my days of dressing my kids in adorable costumes and delighting with them in the magic of a holiday.

In reality, it's been gradual. I mean, we've lived out the same days, weeks and months that everyone else has, but it feels like I blinked and suddenly my boys are grown into pre-teen man creatures. And they don't need me so much. Certainly not to trick or treat with, or even to do the carving on the pumpkin.

Great job, by the way, my little naked carving boy

Yup, I've seen my future.

Me and my stoned dog.

Pass the candy.

Back In School

I started back to school at the end of July, but the boys didn't start until the middle of August. I made them practice reciting the fun things that we did over the summer, just in case a teacher asked them what they did. I didn't want them saying "Played computer games."

Not that they didn't spend quite a few hours on the computer, I just wanted their teachers to know that I tried to make the most of the six weeks that we had.

First Day of School 2008

You are correct, the fourth grader is now officially taller than the sixth grader.

So it's back to early mornings, cold or hot?, deodorant?, backpacks, did you brush your teeth?and hurryhurryhurry. Four weeks into the school year now and things are going great. Both kids have teachers that they really like, not a huge amount of homework, and going to bed earlier hasn't even been a problem. Whew!

This is Cam's last year in elementary. How crazy is that?

Almost as crazy as these two...

First Day of School 2004

Love you guys...have a great school year!

Out of Towels...Again

Notice:

************
(To all household members,
but particularly the 11 year old boy who likes to shower several times a day)


Using a clean towel to dry off your clean body, does not make that towel dirty.

Balling it up and throwing it in the dirty clothes hamper to mildew, does.

Stop it.

Thank you.

**********************************************************

If you could tell your family one thing about the laundry, what would it be?

He's Got a Point

In the first few minutes of Sacrament Meeting, Cam was irritating me to no end by poking at Aaron, teasing him, and generally being a pest. I'd had enough.

"Cameron!" I hissed, in my best chapel whisper, "You are 11 years old - now act like it."

"Mom," Cam shot back with a smile, "I promise, this is exactly what 11 year old boys act like."

Well played, Cam. Very well played.

Aaron On Housekeeping and Hormones

Aaron, upon walking into the kitchen and finding it clean:

"Sweeeeeet...you did the dishes!"

****************************************************

Aaron, after listening to me vent to Troy (over the phone) about Cameron's general poor attitude and pre-pubescent sulking:

"I used to be the bad* one...and now it's Cam. Cool, huh?"


****************************************************

Aaron dropped an open bottle of pills and they scattered across the kitchen floor. He and I were down on hands and knees looking near the baseboards and using a flashlight to look under the stove. It shone on crumbs and dustbunnies, a juicebox straw and general nastiness.

"Eeeewwwww," I said, "Aaron, this is gross...I'm sorry it's such a pigsty."


"That's okay...we're used to it."

*****************************************************

After an emotional outburst from Cam, complete with stomping feet and a dramatic exit (the hormones, people, the hormones!!!!), Aaron asked,

"What's up with Cam?"

"He's going through a hard time."

"He's being a jerk*."

"No, he's just having some grumpy pre-teen feelings."

"I'm gonna go with jerk* on this."

And I quietly thought in a whispery voice, "Okay, me too."

(Just kiddin'. Cam! Even for a grumpy tween, I think you're great! Super, even. Mama just needs to give you a little space to spread your wings, huh? But in case I forget, cut me a little slack, okay?)

***************************************************


Disclaimer: I have never ever ever called anyone in the family "bad", "jerk", or any other name. Ever.

At Least He's Honest

The night before the boys tracked off last week, we ran into a glitch in Cam's relatively homework free life. For this whole year, other than his reading and book reports and the occasional project , he just hasn't had any daily work. All of a sudden, he had a freakin' stack of homework. In addition to his regular book report, he had a bunch of math and an alarmingly thick packet of worksheets to complete - all due the next day.

Mama wanted an explanation.

Cam quickly placed blame on the substitute he had nearly the whole week while his teacher was in a training.

"She only gave us like 10 minutes a day to do this packet! It's not fair! She doesn't know how much time our work takes."

I was skeptical - substitute or not, this was a ton of homework. On the other hand, Cam's teacher assured me at the last parent/teacher that he always got his classwork done and he's a good student. So what was up?

He plowed through the homework - reading, report, math, and then he tackled the packet - all 15 pages of it. Some of it was busy work - crossword puzzles and word searches(these were already done), some grammar and sentence correcting and then a few pages heavy on the math. It took him until 11:30 at night to finish everything. I stayed up and offered moral support, encouragement, and agreement that the substitute was lame.

The next day, the last day before tracking off, I popped in to see his teacher and to ask if other kids had trouble finishing their work with the sub. I love that I work at the school. Cam? Probably not loving it so much. He knew the jig was up the second I walked into his classroom.

Cam, it turns out, hadn't been using his time wisely in class. The packet that the sub hadn't given them enough time to work on? Yeah, he'd had that for six weeks. Six. Weeks.

I quietly let Cam know that I was on to him, that I was ticked about staying up late when he'd had weeks to work on it. We'd talk about it after school.

I went home and stewed about it, literally simmering all the facts together and figuring out how to best approach this situation. I told Troy about it, and if I was irritated, Troy was downright angry. We couldn't get over the idea that Cameron has been lying to us. Lying.

Every day, I ask him if he has homework, and everyday he says "nope, just reading".

Lying.

Now Cam has a pretty sweet life, in my opinion. He plays with friends and has numerous late nights (the alternative to sleepovers), he has a cell phone and is starting to enjoy the freedoms that come with being 11. He's happy, helpful, agreeable, and we've never had a reason to worry about him until now.

Lying is huge - if he lies about one thing (um...homework for instance), how will we trust him about anything else?

He says he's going to a friend's house and that the parents are home...what if they aren't?

He says they're going to the park to play football...what if they go someplace else that I wouldn't have allowed?

He says he and his friends jump on trampolines and ride bikes and play xbox...but what if their afternoons are spent with cigarettes, booze and dancing girls who offer them drugs???????????

Okay, so it's easy to get carried away. But still...

I realize that Cam's lie was more of a lie of omission - he simply wasn't telling whole truth. He didn't bring his homework home, therefore he had no homework. The sub probably did only give them a short time to work on it, he just neglected to tell me that he's known about it for weeks. If I hadn't investigated, I would never have known, the homework got done...who was hurt by the little half-truth?

But if he gets away with the half-truths, will he start experimenting with the real deal lies? Like the whopper we admitted to?

Gaaaah -- this parenting thing is HARD!

By the time Cam got home I was ready to rip into him calmly explain how much it bothered his Dad and me...this lie thing. How we have to be able to trust him, to believe him when he tells us something. If we can't do that, we can't trust him with the cell phone, the texting, the Internet, to go to friend's houses...it goes on and on. Honesty and trust are big deals.

So I talked and talked and talked and talked to Cam. He insisted that he wasn't lying, he just kept forgetting to tell us/bring it home.

"So seriously, Cameron," I said, pecking at the subject some more ('cause that's what Mother Hens do), "even when I asked you every single day if you had homework, a lightbulb never went on and you thought "oh yeah, I guess I do!" "

"I just get out of school and talking about other stuff and I get busy and I forget. It wasn't a lie, I promise."

"But you understand how it seems like a lie to your Dad and me, right?"

"I don't lie." He was emphatic, "I'm just...I'm just irresponsible!"

I had to turn away so he wouldn't see me clapping my hand over my mouth. What do you say to that?

He was so sincere, I didn't have the heart to launch into my "you will be responsible" speech.

For what it's worth, I think Cam is responsible, an honest, great kid - we're chalking this up to Spring Fever, being 11 and testing some limits, a little parental freak out, and hey, who doesn't procrastinate or put things on the back burner every once in a while? He just got caught...and mainly because I'm nosy and work at the school. Poor kid.

But back to the lying...

Did you ever lie to your parents or have your kids ever lied to you?

Sick

Sincere apologies for the following.

The sound is unmistakable - your kid throwing up in the middle of the night. And when it's far away - as in down the hall and in his bedroom, not close by in the bathroom - you just know it's going to be a long night.

There will be laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.

Over the weekend Cam was battling a stomach bug and at 2 am he lost the battle. There was no warning, he insisted, he simply woke up and threw up.

By the time I got to his room, he was standing up on his bed, horrified (and still half asleep), and looking down at the mess that had just come out of him. Cam likes lots of pillows and blankets - he creates a nest of sorts every night - so the damage was pretty big.

There were three pillows and three pillow cases, a blanket and a thick comforter, a fitted sheet, and Cam's boxers, all needing to be washed. That was at least four loads. The mattress needed scrubbing and Cam needed a bath and his hair washed. I wanted a shower too.

But the one who got it the worst, by far, was Oliver. He's been sleeping in Cam's nest for a while now, right up by his head, and trust me when I say that that was the worst place to be at 2 am on Sunday morning. Oliver. Was. Drenched. From head to tail, he was covered!

Now Troy has never been able to handle the cleaning and caring of a vomiting child. He has a sympathy reflex that makes him fairly useless, but that night, he was just going to have to suck it up and help with this. Troy's job was to bathe Oliver and to keep him from cleaning himself. I could hear Troy's faux retching while I tackled the bed and the mattress.

I wiped the bedding, stripped the bed, the washing machine got started, the mattress was scrubbed and sprayed (Febreeze, I love you), and Aaron moved to my bed to escape the smell. After Oliver got his bath (Thanks, Troy...I knew you could do it), Cam got in the tub and cleaned up, and then laid down on the floor on the pallet of blankets that I'd made for him.

I've been doing this whole parenting thing long enough to know the number one rule: Do NOT put a vomiting child into your bed after his bed has been ruined. You will end up with another ruined bed, and this time, it will be yours. Vomiting children sleep on the floor...or even better, in the bathtub.

I started another load of laundry.

We gave Cam some chewable Pepto Bismol, which he promptly threw up - made it to the bathroom this time. Oliver still smelled funky and Cam was crying over his stomach pain. Troy gave Oliver another bath and I headed to Walmart for the good stuff - liquid Pepto. It was close to 3 am.

Now Walmart at 3 am is...interesting. I didn't see any other shoppers, but the place was packed with people stocking the shelves. And anything that's said over the intercom (calling team meetings, etc.) is done in Spanish.

I got the Sick Kid Trifecta: Pepto Bismol, Sprite and Saltines and went through the one open checkout.

"How are you tonight?" asked the checker.

"Well, I'm on a Pepto run at 3 am - I've had better nights."

"Debit? Here's your receipt. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She recited her script, oblivious to my meager attempt at humor. Buenos Noches.

Home again, Cameron swallowed and kept down the medicine. He drank some Sprite and fell asleep, a large bowl by his head. I switched the laundry and started another load. Troy had opened a window in the boys' room to air it out and we so moved Aaron back to his bed.

Oliver slept in our bed, leery of being by Cameron again. Can you imagine the horror of his night? First, being awakened like he was, then two baths. Poor puppy. He needs a breath mint.

And definitely another bath.

Who Wants Advil? Oh, Let's Just All Take Some.

What's a day at the orthodontist and dentist if you don't bring along your camera? Not nearly as much fun.

Aaron was the first one with an appointment yesterday. He had his Rapid Palatal Expander installed. We're just going to call it The Crank. As in, "Let's crank your mouth apart every evening at bedtime".

I am soooo looking forward to that.

The Crank is only mildly uncomfortable, however, Aaron's having a hard time talking. He's got a full-blown speech impediment now, and if I'm not looking at him it's hard to understand him. And since he can't put his tongue up to the roof of his mouth, swallowing is difficult. Also, his mouth thinks the Crank is food and is trying to break it down by producing lots and lots of saliva. Saliva that he can't figure out how to swallow.

By the time we get to the dentist so his two cavities can be filled, Aaron's pretty tired of me asking him to repeat himself, he's hungry (but can't eat), and he's got a mouth full of saliva (that he can't swallow). This day is awesome.

How about a nice shot in your gums? That oughta brighten your day. Breathe deep through your nose, baby, breathe deep.

Cameron's in the next room getting the same treatment. He doesn't have any cavities, but he's getting two permanent teeth pulled as the next step in his orthodontic journey.

He took to the nitrous oxide reeeeeeeally well.

The dentist came in and with a few wiggles and a gentle yank (or two), Cameron's mouth and his teeth parted ways. I wish wish wish that I could have been at a good filming angle, but I wasn't. So this will have to suffice:

It's every bit as deep as it looks.

Cam's supposed to keep his tongue away from the clots and he can't drink through a straw until it's all healed. Drinking with a straw could dislodge the blood clots and he'd get something called Dry Socket, which is so horrible and so painful that I've thrown away all the straws in the house. Just in case.

Still a little glazed, lips stretched beyond recognition, needing some Carmex, missing two teeth, mouth tasting like blood...and yet, Mom wants a picture. I thought there would be more coddling.

We can add these to the collection of teeth:

We headed home and Aaron attempted one smile in the elevator. Great. Now his lips and cheeks don't work either.

I bought him a shake and he tried to eat it, but it just kept falling out of his mouth. He would NOT let me take a video of him trying to eat. I had to promise to stop laughing, but darn it if that wasn't the funniest thing I've ever seen.

Dinner was tomato soup, yogurt, and a smoothie - spoon eaten, thank you very much. Nobody feels like chewing tonight.

And Advil. Lots of Advil.

Science Fair Finale

So the District Science Fair was last Friday night. I Cameron had an awesome project so we were fairly hopeful that he could continue on to the state level. Rumor has it, there's a pizza party when you attend the state science fair, so Cam was all excited about that.

We set up on Thursday night, standing in various lines to be assigned table space and interview times. We had to be back at 5 o'clock on Friday for his interview, then wait around for the judging and viewing of all the projects. It was going to be a long evening and we were told to bring food and stuff to do while we waited in the cafeteria.

And boy-oh-boy, it was all about the waiting. I had a backpack with crackers, water bottles, M&Ms, cheese sticks, paper and pencils, a Nintendo and a book - also Excedrin. There were, I'm guessing, around 1000 people crammed into the school's small cafeteria. The noise was terrific and all the bodies were making it uncomfortably warm. We were sitting crosslegged on the floor for about 2 1/2 hours - my hips still hurt.

Cam was cool and collected - chillin' and listenin' to some Jonas Brothers. Waiting isn't so bad when you've got good music to listen to.

How're those braces feeling? Not bad - especially since it's just the brackets. He won't get the wires until he has some teeth pulled in a couple weeks. Don't the braces make him look grown-up?

Uh oh. Aaron is ticked that Cam has music to listen to and he doesn't. And Cameron isn't about to share with him - 'cause eeeewwwww, sharing ear buds is nasty. (I don't blame him; I've seen the inside of Aaron's ears) See how Cam is pretending that he doesn't notice Aaron on the verge of a music-jealousy meltdown?

He totally notices.

Hey, Aaron. Remember it's your birthday in a couple months. Bet you get an mp3 player. Also, you can empty all of Dad's music off of his ipod and load it up with yours and use that until you get your own. Whew...meltdown prevented.

In the end, we all stayed in a good mood. Around 7:30 they opened up the fair to the public and we could walk around and look at the 309 displays. After an hour or two of that, they started reading off the winners...and Cam wasn't one of them. I think we both felt an equal mix of relief and disappointment. I assured Cam that his project was every bit as good as the 120 projects that did go on to state, and I promised him a pizza. Good enough for him.

He was a little sad, but we were also kind of science-faired out. And every once in a while, a little disappointment is good for the character, don't you think? Good experience, very interesting, loooong night, and a pizza party with just me and m' boys.

Now if only my hips would stop hurting.

The Naughty Toddler

Oliver has quickly grown to over 11 pounds of puppy fun. He's about three months, which puts him at almost two years old in human years.

He's a furry toddler.

I remember when the boys were going through this stage and they wouldn't even let me go to the bathroom alone. It's pretty much the same with Oliver. If I shut the door on him, he cries and cries. If I let him in, he's just a little too curious. When I take a shower, he's peeking in to see what I'm doing.

The roll of toilet paper can't go on the spindle (as long as we can't remember to keep the door shut anyway) because Oliver can reach it and he'll have the time of his life doing this:



And this:

He tries to look all innocent when he's caught red-handed...

He won't hold still for pictures...

He'd just as soon play with the box than with any of the toys we buy him...

But the craziest thing I have to do with Oliver that reminds me of when the boys were young, is the tiptoeing around when he's asleep - an elaborate game of Don't Wake the Baby.

Oliver sleeps with Cameron usually, and he's pretty good about sleeping through the night. But the second he hears anyone walking around in the morning, he's up and ready to begin the day. Not so good when I get up at 5:15. If Oliver gets up, I have to take the time to let him out and then he's not about to go back to sleep, and nobody else wants to wake up to be with him while I go to the gym. My whole goal first thing every morning is to sneak out of the house.

After my alarm goes off, I tiptoe down the hall and drop to a crawl in front of the boys' bedroom. The laundry basket props the door open, so I delicately push it until the door will swing shut. So, so quietly, I turn the knob and pull it into the frame.

Now I can get ready, but I'm still worried about the sound of water running and the garage door waking him up. I'm like a burglar moving through my own home. At least when the boys were babies, if they woke up I could throw them in bed with Troy, move his arm so it was propping the bottle, and be on my way. That doesn't quite work with Oliver.

Every day that I can make it out of the house without waking him up feels like a tiny miracle. Woo Hoo! I'm so easy to please.

Gotta go. I think Oliver's learned to open the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Time to install those cabinet locks again.

Definitely a toddler. At least there are no diapers.

"No Mommy, Not The Toys!!!!"

The boys have been off track for the past three weeks and they have thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to stay up late, sleep in, hang out in pajama pants (or underwear and a blanket), play their games and watch their shows, and generally live a life of leisure. Ahhh, childhood.

The only thing I really required of them during this little vacation, was that they feed themselves breakfast and complete a short list of chores while I'm at work every morning. I get home around noon, so even if they slept until 11 (easily done), they could still get everything done before I showed up. Bonus for me - if there is any complaining about who has to do what or how unfair this whole chore business is, I don't have to listen to it.

I kept things pretty basic:

make bed
brush teeth and shower (they are boys, after all, and likely to forget)
unload the dishwasher
separate laundry
fold towels (I haven't folded any towels in 3 weeks!!!)
put away stacks of folded clothes
do 30 minutes of reading
eat (I swear they wouldn't if I didn't remind them!)
take out garbage
do the recycling
general pick up
anything else I could of as I'm heading out the door

See, nothing too tough or overwhelming. And to their credit, they completed the list every single day.

Except one.

Bothered by the fact that we own a billion (rough figure) toys and yet, all they ever seem to do with any regularity is play on the computer, I added this to the To Do List:

Play with toys for 45 minutes

I was kinda kidding, but kinda not. It was just there on the list with everything else I expected them to do.

Aaron, who takes everything very literally, worked hard to get it done.

A few minutes after I got home, he moped over to me and said whined,

"I've been playing with toys since 11:30...can't I stop now. Isn't this long enough???"

Well, I'm just a big softy, so I let him off the hook.

He ran down the stairs, jumping over the bottom three steps, his arms raised triumphantly.

"Woo Hoo!! I don't have to play with toys anymore!!

He'll do a dozen real chores without so much as a groan, just don't make him play with toys. Go figure.

Got Milk?

Since the first of the year, I've been slowly reorganizing my house. It started with the food storage room and a few closets here and there. In the kitchen, I rearranged some cupboards, made the pots and pans easier to get to, cleaned out the pantry and all the drawers and generally gave everything a fresh start for the new year. It's a work in progress.

I threw out some old things that I just don't use, I moved the pyrex, the bowls and small plates, the bandaids and the medicine box. My family can't find anything, even though I've shown them all the new locations. Several times. I wasn't trying to make life harder - I was just getting things to run more smoothly, without unnecessary items crowding out the everyday stuff. I love having things uncluttered. Meals are easier to prepare and it feels like I can breathe in my kitchen again.

One thing I did that goes under the heading Brilliant, is to move the kids' cereal to a different spot. The boys love their cold cereal at all times of the day, and they were constantly asking me to get them a bowl - they couldn't reach it in the cabinet up above the stove. The bowls were out of reach as well. And sometimes, I just don't want to get up...Mom's tired, you know?

So I took all the kid cereals and all the cheap plastic bowls that they love and put them down on the bottom shelf in the pantry. It's perfect - they can reach them and can have their cereal any time they want. And I don't have to get off the couch.

It's all very organized and kid-friendly:

When I opened the pantry this morning, I found this:

I guess they are looking for ease of preparation too.

Sigh.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

Years ago, my mother decided that she wanted to have a theme tree for Christmas. All the kids were grown to the point that she was no longer receiving the ornaments made at school, so by golly, she was making a fresh start. She got all new ornaments and created a Santa Claus Tree. She mixed clear lights and red balls with Santas of every shape, size, and color. It was fantastic - looked like something from the Festival of Trees.

Wanting my own beautiful and unique Christmas decor, the following year I created my little trio of trees. I had these three lodgepole pines (the same ones Cam used this year to go around our nativity) that I grouped together on our windowseat, and I decorated them with clear lights, pinecones, plastic berries tied with raffia, glittery tufts of dried weeds, and dark cranberry and pearly cream colored balls with raffia bows. I nestled those three trees on a blanket that looked like snow and set the two piece nativity beneath the branches. It was, and remains, the craftiest thing I have ever done.

Then I took things just a little too far. I wrapped every single present in brown kraft paper and tied a raffia bow (seriously, you can do almost anything with raffia) around the middle. Then with a hot glue gun, I added a pinecone, or a berry and some glittery dried weeds.

Merry Crafty Christmas!

Oh, how it's all changed! For one thing, that chubby-cheeked little baby in that picture up there is turning eleven in about three weeks. And we no longer have the trio out. We have a big artificial tree in the corner of our front room that is decorated with a mishmash of ornaments. There is no theme. The lights and the balls are glowing with every color and silver tinsel garland drapes between different ornaments that tell the story of our family.

Little angels for the babies we lost.

And now, one for Jeffrey.

We have a preschool gingerbread boy...

and puzzle piece wreaths,

golden pasta from my golden-haired boy,

a motorcycle for Cam,

and can you guess who this one belongs to?

It's a glorious tree - and no amount of raffia or color-coordinated ornaments and presents could ever be as fun to put together as this is.

At least for now.

What does your tree look like?

Theme or no theme?

Homework Update

As I was snapping pictures of nativities and cookies, Aaron wondered aloud,


"Why aren't you blogging about my handwriting anymore?"

Geez, give the kid a little online fame and all of a sudden he can't get enough.


So, as per Aaron's request, here's a quick update about his, um, handwriting and homework. Just in case you've been wondering.


The tears and drama (from him, not me) over his cursive practice have mellowed into annoyed acceptance. He's still not happy about it, but at least he's not crying, yelling, or throwing things.


He's agreed to do his homework at 7 pm every night. He usually lets out a tortured cry when it's time to get down to business, but it's quick and then he'll start working.

Look Ma, no tears!

His weekly homework load consists of a math page, spelling/word sorting, times table practice, two pages of cursive practice, and nightly reading. In my perfect world (ha!), I'd have him do everything that he could on Monday - just blow through the math and cursive pages all at once and be done with it for the week. Then all he'd have to do for the rest of the week is run through his flashcards and read every night. Simple! Instead, and because this isn't my perfect world, Aaron will just do a small part of each page every night.

I also wish he'd do his homework right when he gets home from school. It would be so much better (I think) to just get it out of the way and leave the rest of the day and evening to enjoy ourselves. Instead, it feels like we're just waiting for the "yucky" part of the day to happen. It kills our evenings, but he's pretty adamant about waiting until 7.

Why, oh why can't he see the wisdom of doing things my way????

Spelling/Word Sorting

One nice thing...Aaron has decided he likes to lie in bed and do his reading. It makes for a quiet, relaxed end to the day. He's also enjoying reading more than he ever has - which of course, makes my heart soar. He and Cam climb into bed around nine (honestly, it's closer to 9:20)and start their reading -- Aaron will read for an hour if I let him. So yeah, he's not getting to sleep at a good time for an 8 year old, but he's doing lots and lots of reading.

So I guess there's still progress and improvements to be made - though really, I'm the only one who seems bugged by the current state of things. And it's all such a huge improvement since September, I'm just grateful. Ultimately, I'm trying to keep things going smoothly, happily, and without the tears. Baby steps.

Cameron had a brush with a heavy homework load this week. He's missed school for three days with strep throat, and being the over-zealous helpful Mom that I am, I brought his work home for him to do. Seriously, is it a blessing or a curse that I work at the school?

Anyway, I gave him all the work that he'd missed and just the sight of it reduced him to tears. Head on the table, shoulders heaving - it seemed so overwhelming, stacked up like it was. But he slogged through it, and it took him maybe an hour plus some reading time. He admitted that it wasn't too bad after all.

And I thought that with having only boys, we'd skip the drama. HA!

So that's the homework update for mid-December, 2007.

Aaron will be pleased.

Would you rather do something [that you disliked] a little at a time, or all at once, just getting it over with?

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad, You Take Them Both and There You Have, The Facts of Life...The Facts of Life

Somehow we managed without Blair, Jo, Tootie, and Natalie. Mrs. Garrett might have come in handy though - she was one smart lady.

Over the past few weeks, and after several conversations with different people, I've had the overwhelming feeling that it was time to discuss a certain matter with Cameron.

It's time for that talk. The big one. Bigger than Santa. Bigger than the basic shower and wear deodorant every day sort of discussion. I'm talkin' straight up, Birds 'n Bees, how it happens, when it happens, why it happens and what all the parts look like.

He's turning 11 next month and I know that the school will be having Maturation Day for the 5th graders in the spring. He needs to know. He just does. He's remained (I think) very sheltered as far as what he knows about the subject, but it's only a matter of time before he starts hearing things and I just want to make sure his information is correct.

He did not want to have this talk. We tried about a year ago, asking him if he had any questions about where babies come from, or how babies are made. He started crying and asked us, "why are you talking to me like I'm an adult?"

Okay, so he wasn't exactly ready then. But that comment did tell me that he knew enough to not want to talk about it with us. We backed off.

But now, I've been feeling like it really needed to be done. The feelings have been strong enough and persistent enough that I'm calling it Mother's Intuition. Embarrassed or not, he was going to learn the Facts of Life.

I was probably 8 years old when I got the facts. My Mom was pregnant with my younger brother, so I'm sure my parents figured it was time to answer the obvious question - though I don't remember asking.

They had a book titled How Babies are Made, and I sat on the couch between my Mom and my Dad and read it out loud to them. Oh yes. The book covered the very basics, from the individual parts that the man and woman are bringing to the table, er, the bed, to conception and growing womb, ending with a blanket wrapped baby. The artwork looked like pieces of felt cut into very basic shapes - not a lot of detail. But it is etched into my brain, forever. Reading a book like that out loud to your parents will do that to you.


Time to do a little etching on Cam's brain.

I hit the library, confident that a book was still the way to go - though I would do the reading.

I found one by the expert herself,

but it was for very young children. And it didn't cover enough of the stuff he'd hear at Maturation Day.

This one was excellent - though just a touch too much information for our very first talk. It was mostly text, geared to young teens, and I'd definitely get this for him to read on his own in a few years. It was written to include morals and staying chaste, and waiting for marriage - almost with a little bit of guilt and threats at the end. Not completely the LDS angle, but close enough when paired with For The Strength of Youth.

The book I ended up using was this light-hearted, pragmatic (thanks, Sarah !) picture book by the guy who does the Arthur books. It covered all the subjects that I wanted it to, and the illustrations were appropriate. As we looked at all the drawings of the pieces and parts, I wondered if Marc Brown really just wanted to go back to drawing Arthur and his good friend, Buster.

I used this book as kind of a cross reference - something to back up the information, in a "see, this is that same stuff again" kind of a way. The Bird and the Bee became a little irritating after a while, but probably only to me.

Cameron knew that I had gotten the books from the library and that I was planning on having the talk. He protested, insisting that the only thing kids talk about at school is football, and he did NOT need to know about this. I gave him the option of having Troy read the books with him, and he tried to hide a smirk as he agreed to me.

I called him to the couch, and he ran to his room to get a blanket to wrap up in. It wasn't cold, he just needed a full body embarrassment shield. See, he can't tell me he doesn't know something. He flopped down on the couch, looking like a Muslim woman in full burqa gear. Only his eyes were visible under the deep hood of the blanket. We plowed ahead.

I read and pointed out specifics on the drawings, tracing pathways, and asking if he any questions along the way. He did not. He stayed covered for the most part. I asked if he wanted to keep the books for a while longer, maybe read them by himself, but he was positive that he knew all he wanted to know. Could he just go back to the computer and being a kid again?

Siiiiiiigh. I think it went well.

He did make two comments that made me laugh. First, I had told him that one of the reasons we were having this talk was because of Maturation Day - that I didn't want him to be surprised at school. Then one time, in the book, the word master**tion (just being careful of the ads) came up. He asked at the end,

"So at school, on Master**tion Day, it will just be like a review, right."

MaTURAtion Day, Cam. MaTURAtion Day.

The other funny thing was when we were talking about body changes and the hair that will grow on various parts, including his face. He nodded and said that a kid in his class already has a pretty big mustache. I wasn't surprised - some of these kids are big! Then he said that the kid is a girl! Oh no!!! I told him to be extra nice to her, that she's got some tough years ahead of her.

So anyway, he knows. First Santa, and now this. Good grief.

I need a Diet Coke.

At least he still kisses me good night and gives me hugs whenever I ask. I'm just going to keep on pretending that he's my little boy..who knows stuff.

How did you learn the Facts?

How have you taught the Facts?

I Don't Speak Scout

It was a big night at Pack Meeting.

Cameron was receiving his Arrow of Light Award.

It's the highest honor a Cub Scout can receive.

I know this, because other people told me.

I'm not really a scouty kind of Mom.

We have a guy in our ward who does an amazing Arrow of Light Ceremony.

Phil gathers all the scouts around the "fire" and shows them this really cool arrow with all these colored beads and feathers. Each color represents a value and character trait and he talks to the boys about how they can incorporate them into their lives. He wears a very cool head dress kind of thing. He's the ultimate Mountain Man.

Phil is a scouty kind of Dad.

All the boys receive their very own Arrow. Of Light.

They can't take their eyes off their arrows.

Thanks Phil!

Cameron with Cori - his awesome Webelos leader.

He's getting this because of her.

Thanks Cori!

These boys sure can earn a lot of badges and strings with beads on them and such.

And pins! Check out all the pins!

Cameron has all those fancy things too.

We just keep them on a shelf in his bedroom so they stay...uh...not on his shirt.

Did I mention that I'm not really a scouty kind of Mom?

Sorry Cam. I'm proud of you.

Love, Mom