Holy Holiday Season, Batman!

Do you remember the old Batman series with Adam West? Where they would hit or punch the villains with a big POW! ZING! Like in the comics? Personally, my favorite was always the FWAP! Right now though, this is how the week has been feeling. I am starting to wonder if we will all need a vacation after this holiday vacation is over.
To start:
Christmas was great. We spent Christmas Eve at my parents house, where I realized too late that my pregnancy and their guest bed do not work together. I slept on the couch. But it was a great Christmas. I would show you pics, but my camera and photo sharing software are holding them hostage. ZAP!
December the 26th was also very eventful, but for different reasons. We were cleaning out kids rooms, and somehow the Smiling Terror (aka Benjamin) did a head dive off Nadia's bed. Straight onto the corner of the baseboard heater. He got up, looking a little dazed, and then the first gush of blood spurted out. Both of the older kids screamed bloody murder (not the best analogy, or is it?) and so Ben started screaming. Quick thinking Mom grabbed some kleenex which Dad slapped on Ben's head, and then tried to find a wash cloth. Ben went in to Urgent Care and got one stitch, and his puncture wound irrigated. He's just fine now, thank goodness. BANG!
Sunday looked as if it would be a break from all the drama. Alas, it was not to be. Around 7, I started having contractions. At 7:30, I started counting. At 8:30, I called the hospital to tell them my contractions were about every 5 minutes, and my son could still be breech. They said to come in. Good news: contractions slowed down around 3 am, Caleb is head down, and we may be having him early. Bad news: we are not prepared. No crib set up, no bags ready, no clean baby clothes washed and folded, etc. I think this may have been a practice run to tell us that we need to get it in gear. FWAP!
Tonight, we were getting ready to go to my parents' house for dinner after yesterday's excitement. While telling the children to get on coats, Cliff and I heard a loud pop/crash noise. It sounded like someone had burst a tire outside. Unfortunately, it was Uncle John. And it wasn't just his tire. It looks like someone side swiped his car, popped his tire, and did something to his rear axle. Hopefully the majority of it can be taken of before he has to go back to school in Provo next week. POW!
I know the holidays are supposed to be memorable, but I think this is a bit over the top. I would really appreciate a little quiet now. Let's see if we get it.

Eight Is Great

This is Nadia. She is the newest member of the Iona 4th ward. She was baptized and confirmed by her father on December 12th, 2009, at the Iona stake center. Both sets of grandparents were able to come, as well as Cherie, Beaner, Jenny, Braedon, Kambrie, and uncle John. We were a little worried about this, because there was a big storm system which dumped a lot of snow that weekend, but everyone was able to drive safely to and from their destinations.
I was hoping to get a picture of her in the jumpsuit that is standard issue for all baptisms in our stake, but there was never any time. When she came into the chapel wearing it, I almost cried. And not just because I am pregnant and cry at everything. My little girl isn't so little anymore, and what a wonderful thing to know that she can be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saint's, has a worthy father that could help her perform the ordinances, and that we have so much support from loving family and friends.

Baby Caleb Is Upside Down

So. It's official. Little Caleb Carson Sharp has decided to follow the Sharp tradition of giving his mother grief before making his big debut.
What is it about the Sharp boys that they feel the need to cause their mothers drama? Isn't it enough that I get really bad morning sickness, lose the use of a leg from sciatic nerve pain, and have so many stretch marks that I look like a elevation map? Apparently, that's just not enough.
Today I had my 34 week appointment. That's right, folks, 6 weeks to go. I was starting to think that I might pull off a simple boy birth. But it may not be. Again.
Several weeks ago, Caleb decided I make a pretty good hammock, and was lying transverse. That felt really weird, with his head pushing on one side of my ribs and his legs kicking the other. He had stayed like that until today's appointment, when we discovered that he was heads up, like Brandon had been.
I have two thoughts to comfort and console me:
1. If he is still breech in 2 weeks, we will do an ultrasound and try to manually turn him. Right away, not 4 days before his due date, like my doctor tried with Brandon.
2. I will take a C-section over Bell's Palsy (temporary facial paralysis, and the drama I had with Ben) any day. Only now that I have publicly announced it, I will have both. Because that's the way my life works.

Brandon Is Six!

Yesterday was Brandon's 6th birthday. He wanted to go to Leo's Place for pizza and the play area. He also wanted a sledding party, but that will have to wait, as all the snow is gone right now.

Actual dialogue from the opening of presents:

-Transformers! I always wanted these guys!

-Dinosaurs! I 've been waiting for those!

-Money! Just what I always wanted!
-Shirts?! Who got me shirts? I don't want shirts!

He also got a bunch of John Deere stuff that he has been very nice about sharing with Ben, and decided that some of the shirts were okay, since they had dinosaurs and 4wheelers on them. Except the two that I bought for him, because one was plain and the other just has a cobra on it. So not cool.

We made a new vanilla cake for the vanilla boy, and it is a hit at our house. You can find the recipe on the Kitchen to Kitchen blog. It was his idea for the whipped cream and strawberries. Such a sophisticated palate for one so young. We will still do the sledding party, I think, and in the mean time, we have plenty on our hands with a ward Christmas party (Cliff will be singing in a quartet, if he can find enough men for a quartet), a baptism, and having the talk multiple times with our children about how it's okay for other people to believe in Santa, even if we don't.

Slacker Sarah Rides Again

So here (finally) is a post about what my turkeys and the rest of us did for Thanksgiving. I went over on Wednesday to help make the pies, only to be told that my father had already bought 3 of them and we only needed to make some pumpkin custard. He is a pie fiend, and I should have realized that he wouldn't be able to wait for us to bake them up. I was also going to bake a new very vanilla cake that sounded FABULOUS, but had to wait until tree decorating time the following week to try it.
My mother's mixer finally gave up the ghost. She originally bought it in Germany, and it is the heavy duty big brother of one of those Kitchen-Aid mixers every one raves about. The Bosch beast lasted about 25 years. Mom was able to make rolls, but they were definitely not the same.

This is a too close picture of the enchiladas that my mother makes the day after Thanksgiving, and why we need such a large bird in the first place. An 8 lb Jennie-O just wouldn't cut it for the Thanksgiving feast AND for these babies. My brothers will actually skip eating more turkey just to make sure there is enough to make the enchiladas. What better endorsement to their yumminess is there? I should have posted the recipe for them right after the big turkey day, but the title for this post says it all, friend.

Brandon made this turkey for school. He was very proud of the color pattern he used for the feathers. Yes, very organized when it comes to color patterns, but actually putting the turkey away instead of letting it sit on the table for 3 days? Not a chance. He also realized that he likes mashed potatoes and gravy. Right when Cliff decided to go on his low carb diet. Oh, the irony of it all. One boy who needs to avoid carbs, and one who I push to eat any carb I can find.

This is Nadia's turkey creation. Her 2nd grade class was given the red piece of paper with a turkey outline, and fill it out any way they wanted. Most of it is different pasta shapes, pretzels, some licorice and skittles. It was a great way to get rid of some old Halloween candy, instead of letting it sit around where I might just happen to see it and eat it.

Poor Benjamin's picture is lost somewhere, but the good news is that we finally got a new camera, so it will be MUCH easier to download pics and know they are on a memory card instead of my finicky phone. Cliff actually braved Black Friday to get it. He is a much braver (and bruised) person than I.

The Trouble With Turkey

I finally bought a turkey. If I had known then how much trouble that blasted bird would be, I think I would have told my mom that we are having a nice Thanksgiving pork roast, instead. Okay, so maybe pork roast and stuffing don't quite work together. Darn it.
This is what happened.
I have been looking for turkeys for the last 3 weeks. You see, every year, Cliff's work hands out vouchers for the birds, any brand, up to a certain poundage. This year, it was 18 pounds. A decent sized feast, when you think we will be hosting my family, my parents, my brother, and my grandmother, plus the essential leftover turkey needed to make sandwiches and turkey enchiladas. Just as a little aside, I think we mainly get the turkey for the enchiladas and just share it with the Thanksgiving Day feast that happens to occur the day before.
Anyway. During those 3 weeks, I have found up to 14 or over 20 pounders. This is probably because like school supplies, everyone else in Idaho Falls is looking for the exact same thing at the exact same time, only I can't blame the turkey shortage on the PTO. Yet.
As another aside, do you know how difficult it is to hoist around turkeys in those big freezer bins while you have a basketball-sized growth right in front of you? And try to keep some semblance of control over your suddenly crazy children? I think it should be an Olympic Sport. Athletes would be required to wear weighted bellies 3 days in advance of the event, so ensure the proper amount of sleep deprivation and possible threat of leg or back cramps during the actual competition. Okay, so maybe it would work better on some Japanese game show. Only it might be to strange even for that.
Anyway. Again. Since I was having such a hard time finding the right size bird (I would have happily gone with 16 lbs if I could have found it), I decided to talk to someone about possibly using the voucher for a 20 pounder and paying the difference. 10 minutes later, I was assured it would be just fine. This occurred last week.
Fast forward to Wednesday, when I finally have time to do the "big shopping" of the week, and decided to finally use the voucher so we will be able to put a thawed bird in the oven next week. I left the house at 9:30, positive that there would be plenty of time to get home, put away everything, play for a little while with boys, make lunch, and drop off a 5 year old at kindergarten. One of these days, I will realize that I am an incredibly naive shopper and need to start the night before in order to make it to kindergarten the next day on time.
I put the turkey on first, and told the cashier about the voucher while pulling it out, and that I had talked to Customer Service last week about paying for the difference.
This is the unbelievable part. She rolled her eyes, head and her neck, and says, "Oh no. Not one of those."
Excuse me? Did you really just say that?
Then she calls for the customer service supervisor, who grills me about who I talked to last week. I really didn't know I would have to verify my story, so I never wrote down names or times. Silly me, I guess.
The customer service lady listens to my story, takes the voucher with her, and the check out process continues. While she is checking out my groceries, the cashier lady tries to tell me that she doesn't think they carry Norbest turkeys, anyway, and I should probably go back and look at the Jennie-O's which are only 40 cents a pound. She also tells me what a pain those vouchers are, and even though people will tell you you can use them anywhere, you can't. I tell her I didn't see any big Jennie-O birds, and continue to put stuff on the conveyor belt. I think I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my tongue so hard, because I wanted to be snippy and say, "Well, isn't it a good thing I came in last week and was told that you DO accept them by another cashier and that mysterious customer service man whose name, rank and serial number I should have saved."
Customer Service lady comes back, and says the voucher is fine. "But this is a Butterball, not a Norbest," the checker argues. I have already told her that the brand doesn't matter when I gave her the voucher, and it's actually written in pretty big font next to the Norbest logo, but obviously the voucher and I don't know what we're talking about, since I didn't take checker lady's advice and get 8 lbs of Jennie-O.
After she is finally convinced by the customer service lady, they then argue about how to ring up the extra amount, and how much it's going to be. I almost yelled, "How about I pay you $20 just so I don't have to deal with this any more, and you can keep the darned turkey! We're eating HAM!!!"
But of course I didn't. While all of this turkey trauma was going on, 2 elders got in line behind me. Plus I have 2 little boys who I have to at least try to act like an adult around. But I sometimes think it would have been worth it.

I'm So Tired

Do you remember when I talked about "Blazing Saddles" not all that long ago? Well, there's another part that I keep thinking about right now. It's Madeleine Kahn singing "Tired" in a parody of Marlene Dietrich. Why do I have that song going through my head right now? Because that's how I feel. I am tired. Not just of playing ze game, either.

This is a picture of the children from the Halloween Carnival at school. You don't want to know how long I've had it, just sitting around, because I have been too tired to scan it.

For Halloween, Nadia was a black cat, with a black shirt, her jean miniskirt, and black leggings, along with a tail, ears, and a bow tie and whiskers. Brandon was a ghost. Yes, I know, big surprise there, and so was Benjamin. So where are those pics? They were never taken. Why? Because I am tired. And I keep forgetting to take pics with the phone because I don't want to deal with a phone sometimes, and simply forget that without it, there are no pics. So I am forgetful and tired.

Why am I so tired? Supposedly, because of the pregnancy and iron deficiency. But I am just too tired to really find out. I think it also has something to do with a little 2 year old who just had a second round of croup, and so has been sleeping in our bedroom where we all freeze but know he is breathing.

I am so tired, I am just ending this post here.

The Great Diet Dilemma

Yesterday, I had my glucose test and blood work done to see if there were any problems that could be controlled and fixed at this stage of pregnancy. The hardest part of this test is drinking that disgusting sugar drink that tastes like flat orange soda in 5 minutes or less, and then not using the facilities for an hour before or during the test.

I am thinking that if women had been more liberated at the writing of the Geneva Convention, when rules for the treatment of prisoners during wartime were outlined, there would have been a section demonizing this practice, along with Chinese water torture. But I survived. I came in with a blood sugar level of 125, when the norms are between 90 and 140.

However, the blood test also showed something that my sister and I have known for quite some time: borderline anemia, that can slowly creep up and be full blown for a while. Being pregnant, and seeing the test, my doctor was concerned and told me I need to take iron supplements. Then she leaned in a little, looked very concerned, and placed her hand on my arm. "I...I hate to ask this, but..are you okay with eating...red meat?"

I have to say that I was a little shocked by this, as it was the way I would expect her to ask if I knew I was carrying alien twins that would someday take over the world. She was really doing her best not to offend me when asking if I eat read meat. It took me a minute to reply that I was fine with it, and even tried to eat it with green leafies and sources of vitamin C to make the most of my iron intake. It's not the main part of my diet, but yes, I do eat red meat.

This got me to thinking how dieting is like asking people about religion and politics. It has now become a very slippery subject to discuss, especially if my doctor who has no problem asking all sorts of very intimate and potentially embarrassing questions, feels she has to hedge around to ask me about what I eat.

Most people I know are either on or have tried a diet of some sort during their life time. So why are we so afraid to talk about it? What's the big deal about following a diet that is so taboo? Or is it restricted to the type of diet?

I know some one who is a firm believer in the Atkins diet. He is diabetic and has been able to lose weight and lower his insulin intake. But, if you think about it, it doesn't technically agree with the Word of Wisdom. That talks about grain being the staff of life, which most Atkins followers don't eat at all in the first stage, and sparingly in the 2nd and 3rd because of the carbs. Is this why so many people are tight lipped about it when they hear it mentioned? Or do they just automatically get the image of some one eating huge, greasy fat pieces of meat, and nothing else?

What do you think? Is there really a trend to not discuss our eating habits in the fear of offending another? Do we look for excuses as to why we follow a certain diet, scared that others might be judging what we put in our mouths? Besides the occasional foot?

Jackolanterns With a Side of Sarcasm

As happens in most households, once the leaves start to fall and the crisp autumn air turns tangy with the smell of woodsmoke, a child will ask when are we going to carve our pumpkin. They may even tell you how many you need and what they will look like when finished. Being the parent and not wanting to deny them this simple request, you go and find the pumpkins that will come home and be a part of your Halloween. Why? Because you love your children, and the great JOY they (the children, not you) get from having the pumpkins. See that look on Brandon's face? Pure JOY. The boy has been asking and telling me for the last 6 weeks that we need multiple pumpkins that look like this or that, and how he would help gut and carve them because they were HIS. This was about 3 minutes into the whole gutting process. He washed his hands (literally) of the project and was done.


Look at Cliff free handing the incredibly small pattern I found on the internet. This reminds me of "Blazing Saddles". Not that someone of my steady and responsible character has ever seen this movie. The sheriff tells the retired gunfighter he needs his help, so the gunfighter lifts up his hand. "Steady as a rock," the sheriff proudly points out to the gunfighter. Then the gunfighter lifts up his other hand, which is shaking uncontrollably, and says, "Yes, but this is my shooting hand."
Cliff was really worried about free handing, but did a great job.

This is for my brother. He cannot be in the room when pumpkins are being cleaned and carved due to a terrible Halloween accident involving 3 bags of candy, a ride in the car while facing backwards, and a freshly carved jackolantern. Nadia had to make a dramatic face and terrible noises every time she either put her hand in to clean out the pumpkin, saw all the pumpkin guts in the big bowl, or saw anyone else cleaning out the pumpkins. She was done after 5 minutes.

Here is Brandon's finished product, courtesy of Cliff's cleaning and carving. Brandon chose the face and told Cliff he did a good job. I remembered after the carving and setting it outside in the wind why I don't do candles in jackolanterns, but it was too late. Tomorrow night, glow sticks, baby.

This is Nadia's finished jackolantern. I cleaned and finished carving it. While hefting around my own pumpkin-sized self. It takes talent for that, folks. Both jackolanterns turned out well, which means no kids cried and told me I did it all wrong even after following the pattern (that happened last year). No easy Dremmel drills for us. Those are for wusses and incredibly smart people who remember they have a Dremmel before finishing all the detail work. Just a good old fashioned kitchen knife to hack away with while chanting, "Never again, never again, never again..."

Nadia's Birthday, Part 1

This is Nadia May Sharp. She turned 8 on October 25th. Do you think she is excited about it? She is wearing her new Sunday dress, with the brown leggings that I didn't know were see-through until she wore them on Sunday. This is why I should not EVER try to buy trendy fashions for any one.

Here we have Nadia making the gift pile. Do you think she might have been spoiled? Maybe. This is the breakdown of the loot (as I remember it):

1.her own library of the Serendipity books (I remember reading those :) !)

2.a triple combination and Bible set

3.a new journal, pens, and a bookmark

4.a Nancy Drew early reader (for elementary age reading)

5.a gift card (WE LOVE VANILLA!)

6.Legos

7.and...

Barbie clothes. That's right, all you reality runway and model shows, you better look out because Barbie is BACK.

We are doing the friend birthday party this weekend and will have more fall updates next time!

Alas, Poor DanDan, We Knew Thee Well

While having dinner at my parents' house the other day, the conversation turned to why I no longer live with my parents. We told my children that when you get older, you might get married or just feel old enough to be on your own, and that was okay. It is always nice to know that you can see your parents whenever you can, and that they still love you, but when you're an adult, you start to want your own space and your own family. Then my dad stressed that it was important to know it is always good to visit and see your parents and siblings and maybe grandparents, too. Yes, I think empty nest syndrome has been hitting them hard, but grandkids seem to help. Then comes this little jewel:

DanDan: "Would you still come and visit me when you get older?"

Nadia: (shocked look on her face) "No way! You'll be dead!"

He just turned 58.

No Tricks, Just Treats

Every year, the YM and YW in our ward do a special Halloween treat night. They make all kinds of goodies under the name of the Halloween Phantom, and deliver them to different houses in the ward. Nadia and Brandon love this idea, so we have our own family version of it. We make lots of treats and deliver them to our neighbors and friends. As you can see from Ben's face, he thinks this is a great idea.

Once again, Brandon decided to make a terrible tower of candy corns cupcake. His words, not mine.

This is Nadia's cupcake. To the untrained eye, it might look finished since it has a healthy dose of sprinkles on top. But then, this would mean you don't know the Queen of Bling, aka Nadia.

Aaah, much better. Don't worry, we are not finished with the fall festivities yet. We still have Nadia's birthday (I can't believe she's EIGHT!!), Halloween, and lots of other fun things before we get to another frigidly cold winter.

Hooray For Home Schooling, Part 2

Okay, I have a confession to make. This is hard for me, so please, silence until I get it off my chest. I am afraid of school secretaries. This is another reason why home schooling looks attractive at the moment, and actually the biggest reason why I was so scared I had lost Brandon's shot record.
Some of you may ask, "What are you talking about, Sarah? Why are you scared of a secretary?" First, I say to you, she is not a secretary, she is the SCHOOL secretary. Big difference. Let me tell you, there is something very intimidating about a lady answering the phone, sending a fax, and filling out a tardy slip all at the same time. "What is the reason for the tardiness?" My mouth always turns to mush when she asks me that question. I never seem to have an excuse that's good enough, either.
Mind you, we are not a perpetual tardy family, at least not when it comes to school. The problem is we have the occasional late start in the morning, the doctor is running late, or someone is sick and slowing things down. We have never been over 10 minutes tardy.
None of that seems to matter when she asks you the question, "What is the reason for the tardiness?" It doesn't matter that your youngest was up all night with a fever and congestion and finally fell asleep 10 minutes before the start of school on the stair step. It doesn't matter that the contractors who are measuring for your counter tops are still talking and measuring your odd lazy susan cabinet that isn't standard in any way, shape or form. It doesn't matter that you were actually on time until the local stray cat came darting out from underneath a parked car, and you had to stop and check the damage. These are all merely excuses, not reasons for a tardy. You need a REASON.
This was my biggest fear in losing that shot record; having to face the school secretary and hearing her ask that dreaded question, "What is the reason for losing the record?"
I had to go and talk to her today because the school website still has all of last year's information and I needed this year's in order to ask Brandon's teacher a question. Do you remember that scene in "Oliver" when that poor, thin and wretched soprano of a boy finishes his disgusting gruel, comes up to the counter that is too tall for him, and asks, "Please, sir, may I have some more?" That is how it felt to go up to the window and talk to the fearsome school secretary. Benjamin was with me for cuteness factor and support, and I was able to ask my questions and get the information I needed without a crack in my voice or have anyone asking me if I have restless leg syndrome because my legs were moving while the rest of me was stationary.
Ben and I made it. We may survive it if we have to go again. Which we will have to do, because unfortunately, some of the info I need is wrong. I will let you know when we go to brave the den of the fearsome school secretary again, and ask you to cross your fingers for us. I'll need it.

Hooray For Home Schooling, Part 1

Just so you all know, I do not home school my children. Yet. But after the problems I have experienced yesterday and today, I just might. Maybe by ranting about it, I will feel better and that urge to yell at administrators will go away. We'll see.
Yesterday, I received a call from the school telling me that Brandon doesn't have a copy of his shot record in his file. I needed to find is ASAP and bring it over to them. So I go to look in my handy dandy purse, which is like the magician's hat and holds EVERYTHING. Seriously, it holds everything. There is a pocket in there just the perfect size for immunization records, and just a little too big for temple names. But that is an entirely different blog post.
I look and find Nadia's record, Benjamin's record, some dumdum lollipop wrappers, and the receipt for some pants I bought someone over a year ago. Brandon's record isn't there. So I look in all my other purses, which all have that same convenient pocket. 20 minutes later, while cursing myself for having a purse fetish and deciding which half need to go to DI, I still haven't found that yellow paper. I start to get worried, because it also has his social security number on it, and if I accidentally left it somewhere, like a doctor's office or the school when I made the first copy so I could register him, I am in big trouble.
Now, some of you may ask why this is such a big deal. The doctor's office has a record there, and it would be easy to go and fill in a new one. Oh ho, not so. I would be labelled as THAT mom. You know, every time something came up like I wanted to start a preschool or get a new job, it would be dragged out into the open.
First Lady: "Yes, everything seems in order here...wait a minute. Does it say that you lost an immunization record here?"
Second Lady: (gasps of terror)
Sarah: (nodding my head in shame) "Yes, it does. I was hoping by typing it so small, it would escape your notice."
First Lady: "Well, we certainly can't have anyone with your lack of morals and organization in such a high position of responsibility. You may go now."
Second Lady: (shaking her head as I leave) "And she seemed so nice. What a shame."
First Lady: "Yes, but remember that even the nice looking apples can have rotten cores."
It is now time to pick up children and wake up Benjamin. I say that in reverse order, because I hate to wake up Ben. He is like me, and doesn't wake up easily or prettily. After fighting him that we really do have to go, staying is not an option, and yes, I will carry him to the car, I go and wait for the other two to get out of school. Which means I also have more time to worry about this lost record and the damage I have done to poor Brandon that will last his entire life.
While sitting there waiting for them to arrive to the car and wondering how much it will cost to replace Brandon's entire identity, I try to remain calm and think where else I need to look.
After picking up kids and getting back to the house, I start rifling through folders in the filing cabinet drawer, on the bookshelves, and then start looking in the desk drawers. I finally found it in the bottom of my drawer, in an envelope along with all the other information needed for his school registration, like his birth certificate and proof of address.
Oh, what sweet relief to know I wouldn't be labelled as the mom who lost her child's shot record. I really don't know if I could have lived that down. Especially since I can no longer eat Haagen Dasz and dark chocolate truffles with abandon. You see, I gained too much weight this month. But that is another blog post and tragedy all unto itself.

Hormone Hating

Can I just tell you something? I hate hormones. I really do. Especially when I am pregnant and they seem to make life so much harder than it really is. I know why they are there, I know what they all do, because I am a freak that way and have to know everything, but they can sure be a pain. Literally. Let me give you some examples.
Did you know that hormones can make your nose more congested than normal? And that they can also cause blood vessels to swell and rise closer to the surface? Did you know that I have both symptoms, and so every time I sneeze or try to blow my nose, I end up with a bloody one? Really gross, and not attractive in the least on date night or in the middle of church to have a bloody wad up your nostril or in your hand.
Hormones also put you on that lovely emotional roller coaster that makes you cry at everything. Do you have any idea how much I hate crying? Especially right now, with my nose spurting forth who knows what? I have to take at least three tissues with me to get through any kind of testimony meeting, movie, or children's show.
Those awful little hormones also attack your self esteem. That's right, as if women didn't have enough issues without them. Not only are you gaining weight at an abnormally fast pace, along with everything in your body swelling out of proportion, hormones have to come along and make you feel even worse than you normally would about it all.
Last week, my dad was talking to one of my brothers on the phone. This brother lives in CA, and so doesn't get to see us very much. They talked about the weather, sports and fantasy sports, and of course they talked about what was happening in all the families.
My brother asked about us, and if I was looking pregnant yet. My dad replied, "Oh, she definitely looks pregnant." With my hormonally crazed mind, I didn't take this as "Yes, you can definitely see that cute little pregnant tummy now." I took it as, "Son, you live by the ocean. Have you ever seen a beached whale that's been sitting there bloated in the sun for 3 days? Imagine that whale about to give birth to twins, and that's your sister."
It took a lot to calm me down and convince myself it was all in my head. I do look pregnant, and that is a good thing, since I really am. And if it takes a half gallon of Haagen Dasz liberally sprinkled with dark chocolate truffles to help me keep this perspective, then all the better, I say.

Deck The Halls For Halloween

Here at the Sharp house, we are having a heel clicking time getting ready for Halloween. Just look at how happy this skeleton is to be celebrating with us.
This is what the kids wish we could do to our house for Halloween. I say no, because I know I will be the one who has to clean it all up. Three pumpkins, and that is the limit.

I think this is the kids' favorite decoration. It is part of a mobile and you have to duck under it every time you want to go into the kitchen or down the hall. Sorry I couldn't figure out how to turn the picture around.

We have more that are up and will be going up in the next week or so, and I am sure we will be doing the Halloween Phantom later, too. We are also planning on going to the pumpkin farm again, and I am positive that there will be ranting and raving and gnashing of teeth as I try to figure out how to make the Halloween costumes for the children. So much to look forward to!

Nadia and Corey Bear

Nadia had the chance to bring home Corey Bear for the long weekend. Who is Corey Bear? He is a bear that all the second graders in Mrs. Ferguson's class get to bring home for a weekend. The student then journals about what they did with Corey Bear that weekend. This is a picture of Nadia and Corey Bear after we made a cootie catcher Wednesday afternoon. They told us our fortunes with it.
On Thursday, they watched Monsters Vs. Aliens and played legos. Later that evening, they helped deliver some cake to our neighbors (no ice cream).

Corey Bear and Nadia played outside on Friday with her brothers. They also blew bubbles. Saturday was really busy, because we watched General Conference and then Nadia took Corey Bear with her to get a haircut. Don't worry, Nadia was the one to get the haircut. After that, everyone went to the park to play, and then Corey Bear drove all the way to grandma's house. That was pretty funny.

Sunday was more General Conference, where they played Conference Bingo. It was also Dan Dan's birthday (Nadia's grandpa). They made a card for him and sang Happy Birthday. Nadia and Corey Bear had a lot of fun together!

Code In By Doze

Ah, the season of coughs and colds is upon us once again. Or actually, upon me. If you haven't figured out the title yet, it's "Cold in my nose" which refers to my current state and I am sure to the state of my children sometime this winter.
While sipping my hot lemon tea this morning and deciding if it was worth taking any medication, or calling the doctor's office to see if I can take medication, I started thinking about my children and their love of all drugs. They cannot wait to take vitamin C when it starts getting nippy, and the older two will even fake a stuffy nose or cough just to get a dose of something. I started thinking of writing a letter to the pharmaceutical companies, and it would probably go something like this:

Dear Giant Pharmaceutical Company,

I am the mother of three children who are hooked on your products. Let me tell you why. My children think you have medicines that taste better than candy. In fact, they prefer a dose of your stuff to most candy, and who wouldn't, with choices like sour apple, berry medley, grape and watermelon. I am sure this is just a big oversight on your part, and you had no idea that children love your products so much. I would like to help fix this problem by suggesting some new flavors that children love, but are not related to candy or purple stain issues.
The first flavor I think you should consider is macaroni and cheese. Every child loves this classic dish. You could make it with either no color or a very light yellow so it looks cheesy delicious. Another good option would be chicken nuggets with a slight ketchup aftertaste. If you could figure out a way to make a red swirl into the medicine, I really think you could have a home run on your hands with this one. Or just go straight ketchup. Red coloring would not be advised for this, however.
Getting away from lunch and dinner, another good choice would be vanilla. Did you know vanilla is the most requested flavor of ice cream? Everyone loves vanilla, and you guys haven't even tapped into that market yet. I would definitely go clear color here.

The only problem with this is I do not know how to end the letter, and there are times I just want to write a threatening note saying we will never take another dose of cold medicine again. But we will both know it is just talk.
The only sane child I have is Ben. He is more than willing to throw a tantrum and spit out most of the medicine he is supposed to be taking, so you have try and figure out a redose amount, as well as rush to rinse out his shirt before it gets even more stained. Bless the boy.

The Benjamin Diet

There has been a lot of talk lately about dieting and watching your waistline. This morning, I realized that I have the perfect solution for anyone who is looking to lose a few pounds.
His name is Benjamin.
Here is how the diet works. You fill up his plate, and that of his siblings. Just ignore all the whines about what they say they don't like, until they actually try it and decide it really does taste good. Then finally sit down with your own plate. This is the great part, because you don't have to worry about overloading it or getting too much of one thing. After you finally sit down to eat, Benjamin will decide he's done with his plate and that your food looks much better. He will sit on your lap with his own utensil and help himself while you try to take bites around him. I think I lose an average of 200 calories by simply not eating everything that was on my plate and fighting him to get the occasional mouthful myself.
This is a two part system, though. We all know that true weight loss also includes an exercise program. Benjamin come in here, too.
Do you know how hard it is to find a 2 year-old's shoes? Especially when he has somehow managed to cram one of them into far corner under the bed or behind a couch? This leaves the second shoe, which is usually hiding under something like a towel or toy in a room at the opposite end of the house. Results are best in a house with stairs, because you will have to go up and down them at least 3 times in order to find one pair of shoes that are the same size and match.
The only problem I have with marketing this system is that it's one of a kind. Benjamins just don't come around and live with anyone, you know.

Kitchen Elves

We were in Delta this past weekend. I called my parents to tell them when we were headed into town, and then the conversation shifted to how our weekends went. My brother John came up and helped my dad with a project, which I assumed was electrical work in my dad's unfinished basement. It was not.

We came home to discover one line of cabinets in place, and a sort of functioning sink. I have been able to put away about half of our kitchen in these few pieces that are in place. The kitchen elves were very "green" and even reused our old kitchen shelf to use as a temporary countertop. Those Keebler guys have nothing on my elves.

Just Looking

Clifford has been promising me a new kitchen for almost a year. The other day, he finally ripped off a tile just to see what was underneath. Then called my dad over to see what he thought, because Cliff had never seen a grooved foamboard flooring thing. This is what my dad decided needed to happen. Total tear out.

This is what I came home to that evening. You don't want to see my living room right now. The good thing is we have all of the cabinets in the garage, so not only will I get a new kitchen, I will get a garage for the winter! WOOHOO!!!

Snips and Snails

Cliff and I went in for the 20 week ultrasound. We are having another boy, but even more exciting than that, he is healthy! I haven't felt him as much (which was my big concern) because the placenta is in the way, but he is strong and healthy and big.
I thought I might be a little disappointed that we aren't having a girl, but I was so worried there would be something wrong that it wasn't important what the baby is. No markers for any problems that they could see, good functions and all the right number of parts (and they are beautiful little parts)!
Now Nadia, on the other hand, might have a little bit of a problem... Maybe a consolation dinner at the restaurant of her choosing will help, or if I make a big box full of hair bows and flowers just for her. Brandon is excited, and Benjamin just gets mad when I tell him there is a new baby coming. "No! Me baby!" We'll probably get another request to send the baby back, is my guess. Until he can watch Wall-e or play trains, that is.

Super Sharp Showdown

I have mentioned a couple of times that my children have superhero nicknames created by Cliff and I. What I haven't told you is that we, too, have these names and the alter egos to go with them. I am Notoriously Evil Lady, and Cliff is Justice Guy.
Notoriously Evil Lady is very similar to the Hulk, just not green. We both made the mistake of getting in over our heads, he with gamma radiation and I with motherhood. It takes a while to get us riled up, and we even give you fair warning, but once the anger comes, look out.
This is what it took to bring out Notoriously Evil Lady today.
Benjamin soaked the bed. The Smiling Terror, as he is known, was wearing a half full diaper that was on securely at the time. This and finding instruments with which to mark the walls are only two of his superpowers.
Nadia, aka Megagirl, was almost late for school. Why? Because she was tired this morning and also needed a 45 minute shower. Megagirl barely had time to finish breakfast and super sulked when I said maybe she needs to go to bed earlier if she's so tired.
Brandon was all about the schedule today. This is the way Anti-Change Boy works. How much longer until 10:30 fruit snacks? After I get dressed I can play the computer for 20 minutes, because that's what I always do, right?
The Smiling Terror decided he needed to go supervise the dog outside instead of eating, and would follow her out and lose his shoes. Now I don't mind him helping with the dog, but when he is supposed to be eating and sitting at the table, this is not appropriate behavior. The smiling terror got a time-out and started to cry.
Did you know that Anti-Change Boy has an ultrasonic whine? Since we were a little rushed yesterday and almost late, Brandon could not stop asking if we were going to be late again and if he would be in trouble. The whine had started during fruit snack time, when Ben took the wrong bag, even though they weren't open yet. It didn't stop until we arrived at the school.
After getting Brandon to school in plenty of time, it was back home to put Ben down for a nap. Then it was time to scrub the step stool that had mysteriously received large globs of kid toothpaste and were starting to dry. Yeah, those dastardly invisible villains who make huge messes and blame them on innocent children had struck again.
Benjamin woke up early and had to sit on my lap. This is when he is darling and I wonder how I could ever consider him a terror. I soon remembered after the other two came home and settled in for snack time.
While helping Nadia get started on homework, I heard a bone-chilling sound: giggling. This giggle means that the Smiling Terror has just struck again. He had splashed out a half gallon of apple juice all over the kitchen floor and table. I cleaned up the Smiling Terror again, and told him no more juice. After talking to Anti-Change Boy about what it means to be a big brother and helping to stop messes, I went to check on Nadia.
Why Megagirl is Mega? She is mega big, mega smart and mega good. But sometimes all that mega just wears down. She is in 2nd grade and reads at a 4th grade level. Part of her homework is to read every day. So what would this mega smart girl choose? Stellaluna? Make Way For Ducklings? NO. A magnet book. The kind you give a 2 year old to occupy them in church or the car. The kind that has one sentence per page, and it reads something like, "It's a sunny day. Everyone is playing outside."
This is when the children should have known that Notoriously Evil Lady was on her way. I had warned Ben and then Brandon. I now warned Nadia. But like poor Bruce Banner who tells the villain that they won't like him when he's angry, my warnings were unheeded by the superchildren.
Notoriously Evil Lady finally pushed her way out, and when Nadia decided it would be better to just be quiet and not read at all for 20 minutes, Notoriously Evil Lady grounded her and made her work on her piano lessons. Then She threatened Brandon that if he goaded Ben on to do one more thing that Brandon knew was wrong, Brandon would get in trouble for it and have to clean it up. Ben got a swat on the cushy diaper and the door was locked, making it impossible to go outside to lose shoes again. And Notoriously Evil Lady did it all with her Sinister Snarl of Doom.
Now what is Justice Guy's role in in epic battle of heroes and villains? Poor Justice Guy has to deal with the aftermath and make sure all wrongs have been righted. And get me Haagen Dazs.

Checking Out

I am fed up with stores today. I am fed up with not being able to use the one closest to me, sick of not having the ads so I can shop with some idea of what is on sale, and I have had it with people telling me that the item I need is out of stock.
Let me tell you all about it.
Today I decided to go to Walmart. Apparently, Walmart stands for "Wall, you is goin' to have a heck of a time figurin' out whar we put everthin' mart."
I thought I would be okay risking it, even with the remodeling work, because I only needed a few groceries. Milk, eggs, butter, bread, juice, PB and dog food. You would think that is simple. No, it is not. When we arrived, I looked at the new store map to see where they had moved the pet supplies. They are now at the back of the store by the electronics and stationery. I think they are just doing it for the prank of having the fish right next to the small high def tvs and computer monitors. "Joe, quick! You gotta come and see these fish! You'd almost think they were the real thing and not some picture!"
I never found the bread. I looked all around the grocery area, even in the craft and sewing center and stationery section just because they may have thought it would be funny to lump the white bread with white paper or the whole grain with the natural elements bead selection.
It took me over an hour wandering around to check things off this list. I had scheduled 45 minutes, thinking that would give me a good safety cushion. Wrong again. Brandon had to get to school, so we hightailed it to the checkout lanes without the bread or PB, which is not with other condiments.
This is the part that almost killed me. How many lanes were open? 9. Not a bad number, until you realize that 6 of them were express lanes for 20 items or less. They were all empty, but apparently I was WAY over the limit since I bought the 18 count carton of eggs. So that left 3 lanes for us morons who have decided it works better for us to buy all our food at one time during the week instead of coming back to the store every 2-3 hours.
I was 5th in line, and considered myself lucky because the two girls in front of me had shampoo and pillows. They were going to be quick. The lady in front of them, however, was not. The two girls realized this, remembered that they needed something, and left the line. I was ecstatic. Until I saw how much this lady had. Then I too started looking around for some sort of escape. But there was not time and no new registers were opening.
This was when I almost started hitting my head over and over again on the front of the cart. But I am not as limber as I used to be, and couldn't quite make it.
Way-too-much-lady finally started to put her things on the belt. I realized we were going to be cutting it close for school, and maybe we would need to go to McD's place so Brandon could eat on the way to school. Then I realized way-too-much-lady's stuff wasn't moving. I looked up from the belt where I was ready to put down 6 containers of frozen juice and some cans of pasta sauce, only to be stunned with what I saw.
I was in the slow lane. You know the one I'm talking about. The lane where the cashier can't talk and check at the same time, but has to talk. The one where she picks up everything you've put on the belt not to check it, but to examine it, like she had no idea the store sold that product. The lane with the guy who picks up the object, drops it in front of the scanner, picks it up to scan it, and then drops it on the other side so he can pick it up again to put it in the bag. The person who has to plan how they are going to put your purchases in the bags and needs a time-out to write it down on the back of the coupons you just handed them.
The thing is, you cannot rush these people. You may want to yell, scream, cry, or just ask if they could hurry, but if you do, it will either fluster them or anger them and either way, they will go even slower. So I had to bow my head to defeat, unclench my teeth to say, "Fine, thanks," and leave it at that. I knew I had lost.
Brandon barely made it to school on time. He enjoyed having a Happy Meal, even if it had a girl Star Wars toy in it. And I came home to flop on the couch and wish for a Coke. They have probably been moved over next to the laundry detergent or Mentos, but I don't have the strength or 3 hours to go back to the store and see.

Brandon's "New" Blue Bicycle

This is Brandon's bike. It is blue with purple accents and is very battered. That's because it's really Nadia's old bike that was just spray painted blue. Now why would sane parents give a girl bike to a little boy? I will tell you. We are cheapskates and didn't want to spend $70 on a bike Brandon wouldn't ride because it only had two wheels. Forget that it has training wheels on the side to help, this is not a three or four wheeled vehicle, and therefore unsafe to little boys named Brandon.
Then Daddy made him get on, with the usual kicking and screaming. I told you, he really is Anti-Change Boy. Once again, it was proven that Mom and Dad are really not trying to kill Anti-Change Boy, they just want to show him how fun new things can be.
Now he loves the bike, and asks when we can go ride to the park or church. Don't worry, next year he will have a real boy bike. Now that we know he'll actually ride one, we will invest the money to get him one that is boy cool. We may be cheapskates, but we're not super villains. Unless we're potty-training.

Out With The Old

This is my new fridge. I am very excited to have it upstairs in the kitchen now instead of in the garage. You will notice that it is still in the middle of the kitchen; that is because it doesn't quite fit. Cliff and my brother went to a lot of work and trouble to get it up into the space and hauling out the old fridge, then tore up the chair rail and took off the top off the little counter next to the fridge before realizing that this new fridge is still too big. Something I tried to tell them, but being a girl, what do I know about measuring and appliances.
So what does all this mean? It means that I may get my new kitchen. Soon. Just so we can actually use everything again without all the hassle. Am I disappointed with the current inconvenience? No, because Cliff is also inconvenienced, and may therefore decide to finish the project. P.S. I love you, babe.

School Dazed

Monday was the first day of school. The children woke up at 7 am, we had smiley faced blueberry pancakes, and the children dressed themselves and were off. Only I can't show you any of these pictures because our camera decided it couldn't survive without being next to our old monitor, and passed away as well. Those smiley face pancakes were awesome, too.
So instead you will just have to read until I can make fake first day of school pics and then post those.
Nadia is very excited to be in Mrs. Ferguson's 2nd grade class. She was Nadia's cousin's teacher last year, and we got to know her pretty well. I think she will do just fine. We have already had our first school related meltdown when she realized she had thrown away her sandwich keeper with the rest of her lunch trash. Pretty sad for Nadia, who had been looking forward to using it all summer long. Maybe we can figure something out at the store on Saturday.
Brandon has done a lot better with kindergarten than I thought he would. Just to help you get the idea of what I am up against, Cliff and I decided that if Brandon had a super hero name, it would me Anti-Change Boy, the ever loyal sidekick of Megagirl (Nadia). He just does not handle change well at all. I was very grateful to find out that this year the teachers did a "kindergarten roundup", where the parent and child got to go the the class together and do some activities. It was a big help to him to be able to meet the teacher, see his room, see where he would sit, and do some of the things that he would do in class. We also went to back to school night, where we got to drop off his school supplies and see everything again. There was no crying on the first day. It was amazing. He just got in his line at the front door, waved at me, and went inside.
Benjamin is having a much tougher time than Brandon. He is very cuddly right now, almost to the point of strangulation, and keeps asking where the other children are. When we went to drop off Brandon today (he's in pm kindergarten), he was very excited because he thought we were there picking up Nadia. He has been sitting on his pouting step (bottom stair step by the front door) and doesn't want to play with me. I have been letting him hug me all he wants, and hope that Big Sibling Withdrawal pains go away soon.

Two Theories

I have two theories when it comes to school supplies and buying them for your children. What is that, you say? You don't have to buy school supplies because you don't live in Idaho? Well, aren't you just special then. I really don't want to talk about it or I might start cursing in Italian again. Okay, I have calmly counted to 10 and can continue now.

The first theory is that all of the stores in Idaho Falls have decided that adults don't have enough fun when they go shopping. So these stores got together and made a master scavenger hunt list out of all the school supplies handed out to us parents. If this is the case, I will gladly trade 8 glue sticks and one Hannah Montana Folder for 3 watercolor sets. Or 3 10 packs of pencils and 4 spiral notebooks. Or both. I just need those blasted watercolors.

The second is that the PTO (Parent Teacher Organization) is a group genius, and they have just hoarded all of the watercolor sets in the grand scheme of making us parents pay exorbitant prices for them later. It is the black market at its finest. And where would these nice ladies learn such deceitful behavior? Well, let me answer that with the following question: who do you think teaches mafia members how to keep things so secretive and borderline legal? That's right, from their moms who were in the PTO and desperate to raise money for new playground equipment.

So what is a frantic parent to do? You have two choices.
You can picket the school with the hourly threat of being killed by the "Momma Mafia" aka PTO, with the hopes that finally the local politicians will recognise the dire situation and declare a state emergency. As well as get in some good camera time for themselves. Then a SWAT team will be sent in to find and release all hostage watercolor sets. Of course, you and your family will be forced into the Witness Protection Program for your efforts.
Or you can choose to act ignorant. Maybe the teacher will never realize you dropped your kid off at school without every school item listed. Be prepared for it to backfire, just in case. "What's that, Mrs. Smith? Little Johnny doesn't have his watercolors? I was sure I packed them in with the other school supplies...Well, give me a day or two to look for them around the house." Then drive up to Canada where the watercolors are a part of socialism and free to everyone. Just don't let those Mounties catch you.

Questions

Should we find out the gender of this baby? The ultrasound is coming up, and we have found out with all the other children. I know Nadia is adamant about knowing if it's a boy or a girl, but she took it pretty hard when she found out we were expecting Benjamin instead of Benjamina. Although, this little girl's name would have been "Princess Ballerina" according to Nadia. So maybe it was good we had a boy.
Should we let the children come this time and risk Nadia bawling on the way home? Or just Cliff and I go, and then gently break the news to the children so they can cry when they are already at home?

Is it better to let the children keep their own made up words or correct them right away, or does it depend on the word? For instance, we were discussing various dinner choices for tonight. Nadia wanted "portugeeyas". I'm probably spelling it wrong, but however you spell it, it sounds like you are eating some poor Portuguese person for dinner. Really not very appetizing to a pregnant woman who gets the image of some huge pot with a foot sticking out of it every time Nadia mentions it. She finally told us it means a quesadilla with tomato sauce, but I still can't get rid of that foot image.
This also occurs quite a bit with Benjamin, who uses the word "badoo" for Bowser of Mario fame or any other dinosaur, as well as what he calls his grandmothers. I have been too scared to ask either of these ladies what they think of this, and whether or not it should be stopped. Would you be offended if someone was calling you a dinosaur? Or does it depend on who it is?

Cliff is talking about going back to school. He is debating getting his MBA with an emphasis in one area, which would involve taking about 4 classes in that major. Or he should get the MBA and this major together, as offered at a different school? Also, how much does the school name matter now? Does it make a difference what you study at different schools?
If Clifford does go back to school, does he expect me to support him in the manner to which he is now accustomed while I am 7 months pregnant? Or will he decide to be gentlemanly and wait for his sugarmama to deliver this baby and recover sufficiently before sending me back to the mines?

And why can't we get any ripe tomatoes? Will they ever go from yellowish green to red?
That is probably the greatest question of all.

Transfoming The IQ

I am a smart person. Really. I know I get the occasional memory lapse, but I can conveniently blame that on my pregnancy (for now). I can solve a sudoku puzzle, work out a crossword, and have even figured out Rubik's Cube. Most of the time. So why do I feel like an idiot every time I have to transform those blasted Transformer toys?
We used to have such a happy, peaceful home. And then that fated Christmas morning arrived. If only I knew what kind of damage those toys would cause. Not to the children, but to me. Brandon opened the first Transformer set and asked that they be transformed. He wouldn't open anything else until I did it.
I asked Cliff for help, since he had played with them as a boy, but he smiled at me, leaned back in his chair, and said, "This is my revenge for you making me potty train the boy."
Okay, so he didn't say that. But he might as well. What he really said was, "Babe, you're going to have to learn, because I won't be home to do it for you." What a jerk.
I have finally mastered Bumblebee, the crane guy, sporty car Decepticon guy, and the helicopter. And I did it without the instructions, because Brandon doesn't believe in keeping helpful bits of direction. But Megatron. I hate Megatron. I never really thought I would ever hate a toy, but there is a pure loathing in my soul for that piece of demon spawn.
The thing I hate most about him is that it's only supposed to take 4 steps to transform him. And I can't do it. It's like my brain stops working in between steps 3 and 4. The final product is a tank that can only fire at its wheels, instead of firing its projectile missile somewhere into the carpet that I will later find when I step on it. And it looks pigeon toed. Which is not good when you are the leader of the Decepticons and feared by both your followers and enemies. Who wants to fear a pigeon toed robot? That's right, no one.
So I am a failure. Apparently I am not smart because a toy is besting me in the intelligence department, and because I can't perform a simple task for my son. My only option is to mumble under my breath, "Wait till your father gets home." Cliff's revenge is complete.
All I can do is hope and pray this next baby is a girl, because if it is, watch out, Cliff. You have no idea what you're in for in the girly pink department.

Some Other Sharp People and Warm River

We went to Warm River on Saturday with Jenny, Beaner and their two children. We all had a really good time. Here is a picture of our family in Warm River, which really isn't that warm at all, but gets its name because it is spring water and never freezes. This is also when I got my sunburn. Darn low necked maternity shirt.

Ben had to be held a lot of the time in the water, but finally decided to test it out. And loved it.

The kids had a great time playing in the water, and found slimy rocks, snails, and slugs which were actually leeches, but I didn't want to ruin the fun. So they were called slugs and I discreetly checked everyone to make sure no one took home a new "friend".

Four wheeling. The kids couldn't get enough of this. This is Nadia and Dad getting ready to head out. We took a very well groomed trail that is actually the remains of an old railroad bed between Yellowstone, the first ski resort in Idaho (now closed), and Idaho Falls. The dads later went on another trail that was not quite so kid friendly by themselves, and I am told that Cliff is still quite limber and graceful in his old age. I'll have to check it out sometime. ;)

Yes, Brandon looks dazed and delirious from all the fun and excitement. I wish I could show you pics of feeding the fish, but it never works. There is a little bridge area where you are not allowed to disturb the fish in any way. The trout that live here are enormous, and if you throw in a slice of bread, you understand what the phrase "feeding frenzy" means. Maybe you will have to visit and see for yourselves how beautiful and fun it is. We will definitely be going again next summer, and hopefully more than once. Warm River makes the Idaho winters worth it!

Brandon, Piggy and the Tooth Fairy

I would have posted this earlier, but we have been experiencing technical difficulties with the monitor we bought 2 years ago. We tried reviving it, but no luck. Now it is dead. It was a widescreen flat panel, and I miss it terribly.

Brandon lost his first tooth about a week ago. And yes, the permanent was right behind. It looks HUGE in his little mouth.

Now many of you know what cheapskates we are, and one of the areas we skim in is with the Tooth Fairy. I know lots of parents (including mine) who give children a dollar when a tooth is lost. We only give a measly 25 cents. As a result, Brandon's best friend Piggy (as in Piggy Bank) has not been feeling well lately.

Apparently, Piggy is sick. And he needs more than a quarter from the Tooth Fairy to feel better. So I have suggested that Brandon do more chores to get more quarters for that poor Piggy. He took it better than I thought he would, and every time he does a chore, he gives me an update on Piggy's health. It's really quite cute.

Cliff's Birthday

Yesterday was Cliff's birthday, and here is a list of things that did and didn't happen.

Did

All of the children gave Cliff cards. Ben's was Handy Manny, and we know it would work when he said, "Manny" and "Mine". Brandon gave his dad a dinosaur card. While drawing a picture and signing his name, he told me all about how his birthday party should be, including the gold dinosaurs and Transformer cake. Nadia signed one card and then made another one for Daddy during Church, complete with envelope. One small problem, no one knows how to put the envelope back on, including Nadia.

We made Cliff a chocoholic cake with Baby Ruth bars cut up on top of the whipped cream frosting. Brandon decided the cake wasn't quite ready yet and needed some fruit snacks, so they went on as well.

Cliff's birthday dinner was grilled steak, oven veggies, homemade rolls, a fruit and a green salad. The steak was perfect, nicely seasoned and very tender, and I can't eat enough of those oven veggies when they have mushrooms and asparagus.

Didn't

I still haven't gotten Cliff's b-day present. In my defense, I have pregnancy amnesia, and have a hard time remembering the children's names, let alone a book by what's-his-name Skousen about 5,000 somethings. Or Cliff's hat size for that fitted Detroit Tigers baseball cap he likes. No, apparently "Big" isn't a size. This week I need to find time to go to the store with the info written down and just hand it to someone so I don't make any more problems.

No pics for this post because I forgot to charge the camera. Not that Cliff really cares, but the children love to see b-day pics. Maybe when Aunt Jenny comes up on Thursday I will angle the camera so it looks like Cliff's b-day instead of Jenny's. Don't worry, I'll still take Jenny's pic as well. If I remember to charge the batteries this time.

We did have steak, but it wasn't what Cliff wanted for his b-day dinner. I just mistakenly assumed it was. About a month ago, Cliff was talking about a good steak, and so I decided we could do that for his birthday. Saturday night is not the time to double check to see if it's what they really want for Sunday/birthday dinner. He really wanted my mother's pork schnitzel with brown gravy and noodles. Oops.

I guess it's just a good thing that I'm so darn good looking, and that Cliff finds it easy to forgive me.