Chore Wars

Why is it that the only child in my house that wants to do...or is even willing to do...chores is my two year old? The one who isn't quite physically capable of correct chore behavior yet? When I ask any other child to sweep the floor, there is much groaning and wailing and gnashing of the teeth, but Max makes a beeline for the utility closet and grabs a broom and dustpan. He has claimed one of the feather dusters as his own. I caught him yesterday plugging in the vacuum. "I'm cleanin' the gween room, Mommy." Luckily, the on/off switch is broken and he can't actually turn it on.

He is the only one to consistently take his dishes to the sink and when there is a pile of clean clothes, he can't even wait til I'm finished folding before taking them upstairs to put them away. I have to be careful to check the washer before starting it because he has been known to throw dirty clothes in there.

He is even more fascinated by outdoor chores. He wants his own digger, for pulling weeds. He pretends the bicycle pump is a weed whacker and will traverse the edges of the lawn, "just mowin', mom." The lawn mower's pull cord is a constant attraction and he attempts to pull it anytime we leave the garage open (no worries - I can barely pull it!)

I thought his big brothers and sister would have a lot of influence on him, but I'm sure wishing that these little habits of his would rub off on them!

I am REMARKABLE!

Read the following quote and think on it:
"My students were middle-class kids who were ashamed of their background. They felt like unless they grew up in poverty, they had nothing to write about...I felt sorry for these kids, that they thought their whole past was absolutely worthless because it was less than remarkable."
-David Sedaris, from an interview in January Magazine

Admit it. You've said, "I have nothing to blog about. My life is boring." Haven't you. Haven't you?

Your challenge is to write about it anyway.
Write about your less than remarkable life. Write about your routines, your habits, your schedule. Find the unremarkable things about your life and CELEBRATE them.

Go - be remarkable!

This is the challenge for the week from my ScrapShare friends. I've had all week to think about it and hear I am again, typing up my blog entry at the last minute.

I've never thought of my life as boring...but it is repetitive. When my mom and my dad call each Sunday, there is not always a lot of news to share and I seem to be telling them "oh, we're doing a lot of the same old stuff" week after week. But then the conversation progresses, and I tell them about Matt's camping trip and latest merit badge, that McKelle is learning to sew, that Micah got the teacher he wanted for 4th grade, that Mitchell is such a social butterfly that we never see him, that Max is BLUE and that Mason has been smiling and laughing at us.

So what makes my life remarkable? I'm a pretty good cook, but certainly not the greatest (I made baking powder biscuits with baking soda and last year's pumpkin pie without sugar...oops!) I can sing, but I'm not outstanding. I play the piano and violin...a little. I scrapbook, I sew, I do a little crafting...but none of that is really all that remarkable. What makes me remarkable are the people I have been able to surround myself with. My husband, my absolutely remarkable kids, my dear friends. Being a wife is remarkable, being a friend is a wonderful thing and being a mother, well that is the greatest thing of all!

Who taught this child?

Who taught my two year old to say "nana nana boo boo" and laugh hysterically? Because he has been doing it for the last week, any time he is being naughty (and he knows it!)

I caught him up on the kitchen counter yesterday with a bottle of children's Tylenol in his hot little hand (used a bar stool to climb up on the cupboard and then reached for the top shelf.) He turned to me with his hands on his hips and said "I need Tylenol." O-kaaaaay, then.

Today, he followed me to the basement and back up again. I asked him to close the door behind him...which he did. Unfortunately, he locked it in the process. Now, some may say he did this on accident. Or just out of curiosity. I DON'T THINK SO! We had an incident with his 7 year old brother doing the same thing just a couple of days ago and he witnessed the trouble Mitchell got for doing it. He did it ON PURPOSE. Oh yeah, "nana nana boo boo" followed. (The basement door requires a key. Our house key fits, but will not turn. We have to remove the hinges and the door to rectify the problem.)

I believe he was named correctly. Max. As in the main character of Where the Wild Things Are. For he is the wildest thing of all...

Fantasy Dinners

Our conversation round the dinner table this evening was quite entertaining. Michael was not present as he was still at the hospital, but the kids and I had a rousing discussion of what would constitute our favorite dinner.

Matthew's choice would be a caesar salad to start, chicken drumsticks and ribs, a bit of pizza, washed down with rootbeer floats and followed by a sweet brownie or chocolate brownie trifle dessert.

McKelle would eat hamburger stroganoff (which is what we were having for dinner), chocolate milkshakes and Butterfinger icecream for dessert.

When pressed, Micah changed his answer from "sweets, sweets and more sweets" to "pasta salad and then sweets."

Mitchell just wants "pizza to the ceiling (pepperoni, of course)."

Max agreed with the pizza and icecream and thought a smoothie or popsicle might be yummy.

Hmm, not one of these kids mentioned any vegetables except for the salad. I must be remiss!

And my choice? Now, I do love a good pepperoni pizza, but I'd have to say my absolute best, most fantastical dinner would start with bread sticks from Magleby's in Provo (haven't had them for years but I can still taste them), caesar salad and some sort of fried onion appetizer (Awesome Blossom comes to mind.) The main course would consist of the delicious steak I had at Larco's (chateaubriand) and coconut shrimp and corn on the cob, roasted. Refillable non-alcoholic strawberry daquiris, of course....followed by a selection of cheesecake and Larco's Chocolate Bomb. Mmmmmmm!

Notes to Self

Note to self: Do not allow two year old who is in the mimicking phase to watch America's Funniest Videos. You never know when he might pop off with "Daddy, kiss my butt!"

Note to self: Always take twice as many diapers as you think you need and an extra outfit when attending church with a two-month old. An extra outfit for the baby is helpful, too....

Note to self: Quit buying new tupperware. He's just going to continue sticking it in the microwave, no matter what you say.

Note to self: When your almost 12 year old daughter makes dessert for the family and you find some unidentified objects in several bites of your portion, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT and swallow!

In the Pink or Out of the Blue

I belong to a great community of scrapbookers and on our message board, there are ample opportunities to participate in challenges. Page layout challenges, photography challenges, card making, etc. There are even lots of NSBR (Not ScrapBook Related) challenges one can join - weight loss, debt reduction, life simplification. And most recently, a blogging challenge...one of the main reasons I started my own blog.

And I'm already running a week behind. I see as I logged on this morning that the next challenge is already posted and here I am typing up last week's - an entry about my favorite color. Well, better late than never!

I think I have loved pink since I was very small. Some of my earliest memories are pink - the pink army bed Dad painted for me that was in my bedroom in Montana. A pink dress that someone, probably Mom, made for me. Definitely my pink Snow White blanket that Mom and Grandma Stott quilted (the one that is...ahem...still on my bed today.) I painted my room pink in the house in Washington. I even wore a pink dress to my senior prom.

As an adult, I think I went through a phase of trying to rid myself of the color pink. Perhaps it was too little-girly, not grown-up enough. And so, I went through the black phase (obviously around the time I got married.) Hence, the black and white wedding, the black and white towels and dishes received at our reception (which I would love to replace but can't afford to), the white couch and black chair (couch is long gone but the chair remains.)

And then there was the green phase, definitely a hunter green...and our old bedspread is still here to prove it. A green set of towels for the bathroom in Philadelphia

Finally, I think I have settled into a love of blue. Its been around for a long time now. I love Americana decorating, lots of denim shades accented with red and white. I love to wear navy and get compliments when I do. When looking at my recently color-coordinated closet, it is mostly blue. A little khaki, a bit of black, but a whole heck of a lot of blue. And with a houseful of boys and one daughter who can't stand pink, blue is much more practical as a decorating and living choice.

But I still love pink...

I am the Coupon Queen!

I haven't been doing as much couponing lately, since becoming addicted to Costco. When I heard the local Kroger was doubling coupons up to $1.00, I had to suspend my weekly trip to the land of yummy samples and king-size bags of tortilla chips.

McKelle and I spent almost three hours at Kroger but the result was my best couponing result ever! Over $500 in groceries and over $320 in savings. My cash register tape was almost as long as I am tall. They were paying ME to buy toothpaste, barbecue sauce, cereal and shampoo. Wahoo!

Sleep deprived.

If someone gave me the choice of $100 or 8 consecutive hours of sleep in a nice, dark, quiet room, Ben Franklin wouldn't stand a chance!

Mason actually had a five hour stretch of sleep today. Unfortunately, it started at about 6:30am. The unfortunate part is that Max was up at 7:30. One lousy hour of sleep.

To Blog or not to Blog

I've resisted...for a long time. Wondered why anyone needed a blog. Would anyone really read my blog? And if they did, would it be clever, funny, well-written?

And then there was this baby. Baby #6, to be exact. One by the name of Mason, who keeps me up at night. Waaaaay past my bedtime, with nothing to do in the dark but play on the computer. And I started in reading blogs. And more blogs. I laughed, I cried, giggled a bit (but not too loud - trying to teach that child to sleep!) and then started to wish I had my own blog. Found myself composing blog entries before falling asleep. Or while walking. Going through an experience and thinking "I should blog this."

So here it is. My blog. And if it isn't witty, clever or of much interest, well, I blame it on that aforementioned baby who is still keeping me up way past my bedtime.