Some Funnies

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Ok, this month is about over.  So what was going to be a six month update will now have to be a seven month update.  (organized, anyone?)

Here are a few funny or cute sayings around here lately.

From my three year old, when she was two and a half (just found the paper it was written on):

If you stab me with a poker then I will die with my clothes on in the river with the gooses.

The goose rode his scooter through the mud and he fell and broke his arm.

More recently, she and sometimes my six year old have a hard time with the words hamburger and booger.  They call Burger King "Booger King," saying they want a "ham-booger."  But then, when the baby has a runny nose, A will say "E. has burgers!  Wipe his burgers!"  It does not matter what I say, this little confused concoction of words continues.

Baby, who is still interested in trains, confused me one day by saying what I thought was "train" over and over.  Until my hubby pointed out that he was saying my name "Treen!"  "Treen!" (corinne)  It is really super cute.  Reminds me of the time when our oldest was this age and called my husband E-Miguel.  One day I realized he thought his name was "hey Miguel!"  Because I must have said it so frequently.


We thought he was saying "tiger," then "roar," but we figured out he is trying to say "dinosaur."  Those dinos made a big impression (he was so scared in one part that he was literally shaking!  I felt badly...he seemed to be okay the rest of the time, though always a little wary of the beasts).

Thankful Poem

I planned on posting a couple of posts just on random things I'm thankful for.  But I didn't.  This month my other blog sort of took some of my emotional energy, in a good way. 

If I had a gratitude list, a really short one, that isn't just run-o-the mill, it would be: my baby in his footie pj's, my nine year old's love notes, seasons, home, my eleven year-old's infectious giggle, grass, running, rivers and river guides, sisters, my six year old's big beautiful eyes, three year-old's spunkiness, unexpected blog friends, real life friends, Jesus, jumping, and babies.

Here is a mini poem I wrote the other day:

Thank You

For the baby smell
On my hands
As I kneel down to pray.


All my blessings encapsulated in that one smell on my hands one night.  I am living my dream, no sarcasm intended. 

So beautifully captured in this video.  Happy Thanksgiving!  Safe travels everyone.

Positive Words

One thing I have learned ever since I worked on speaking positively to my kiddos is that positivity begets positivity.

I performed the simple act of putting a little note in each child's lunch, which caused a little waterfall of notes to cascade through the family over the next week.  One child wrote a very sweet note to every single person in the family and put it on each persons pillow.  I don't know if you can read them in this photo, but they were very sweet.  A la, you are the "best brother in the universe," etc.

Makes me wonder if the reverse is true....What do you think?

P.S. In case you suspect foul play, I did photoshop out names. :)

Dino Days

We enjoyed a gorgeous day out at a local Dinosaur Park with some friends before the snow hit.  I must apologize in advance for the sheer number of photos in this post.  I know, I know.  Sigh.  They are all just so cute.  Which would you cut out?  I especially love the ones with a big bro or sister helping out a little one.  I love it!  We went with some friends, mostly not pictured here, but you can see my oldest daughter pictured with one of her best friends in a couple of photos.  They are such good little buds. 

And to everyone and especially my other kids, I'm sorry for the disproportionate amount of baby in these.  Just know I love everyone equally, and I followed you all around gooing and gaahing when you were a baby too.  If in doubt, just ask your dad.  He was there, loving you too, and rolling his eyes at me.  :) 

 I love his little face in so many of these!  He looks SO happy.

 He is telling me how he and his little new buddies thought the giant fish under the water were pulling the ducks under.  Just smile and nod your head unless you want to argue.

Love these guys.

Month 7 Well Filling

This month my personal goals are mostly  not going too well (drinking more water is one of them).  But one thing is. 

A little background:  a few years ago my dad introduced me to a list on Brigham Young University's website (my alma mater, wahoo).  Within the Honors program, there is something called the Great Works List (here).  Since then I have periodically used it to find books or art in order to educate myself in little small ways while still being a stay-at-home mom.  I would love to get more education some day; in the short run these make me feel like I am still challenging myself without taking too much time away from my kids.  One favorite that I have been exposed to over the last few years, through a smart friend, is Dickens.  David Copperfield has become a favorite, and Esther Summerson of Bleak House made it onto our "hero" wall even though she is a fictional character.

I have been in a little rut, though, reading the same types of things for a while (and in general my reading slowed way down when I started blogging).  So I challenged myself to go way outside my comfort zone and pick an author or title I'd never heard of (there are quite a few to choose from on this list!).  I chose Soren Kierkegaard's On Fear and Trembling (I even downloaded it free to my phone).  It is not huge, and I'm probably only one third of the way through it, but it has delivered precisely what I wanted-- exposure to a "great" work and new ideas.  And some challenge.  The concepts are quite beautiful.

Time is so precious, and I want things that inspire me to be better.  How do you choose your reading materials?  What is it that fills your tank from an intellectual perspective?  I feel I am a better mother when I am also trying to improve myself each day and it gives me tools with which to teach them, too.

What a Joke

Today while I was getting something out of my refrigerator, a plastic container filled with Butternut Squash soup fell and broke, spreading orange gooey goodness all down my fridge, on the floor, on my kitchen rug and splashed right on up the cabinets.  Aren't those the times you just want to sell the house rather than clean up the mess?  I just stood there for a minute taking it all in before I realized I did Have.To.Clean.It.Up.   I even had a little eager helper.  As I gingerly lifted my overdue-to-be-cleaned rug so I could take it upstairs to be washed, a nice floor of sandy accumulated goodness was revealed underneath.  Carrying that rug and trying to contain the excitement of my little helper required some delicacy; it felt as if we were carrying the limp and lifeless rug to be sacrificed to the laundry god.

Then not ten minutes later I spilled a whole container full of noodles in the exact same spot!  (a few minutes after that I dropped a clean bowl and spoon into the contamination zone-- hmmm....what is my problem?).  The baby, instead of eating the few remaining noodles in the original bowl (which I had set on the table for him), was now picking noodles out of the sandy, post-pukish looking remnants of the Butternut Squash soup and helping himself. Aaaaaaaaaaagh!  (it truly is amazing any of us survive childhood)

I had an entire day like this a few weeks ago.  It started off with kids scrambling with half-brushed hair for homework and shoes in order to RUN for the bus.  Someone was missing one shoe.  Someone else needed to run upstairs (just really quick, Mom!) to grab a library book that was due that day.  Someone else had no socks on and had to run upstairs to hunt for a mis-matched pair.  Someone else needed homework signed (I forgot last night mom!) Someone else was reading while tying his shoes while late for the bus (more on this later).  It seems every day I am giving them a barely squeeze and almost pushing them out the door saying "RUN!"  (with a trailing 'love you!')



I have been unable to run for exercise lately (and I miss it so badly!), but I still wanted to try and exercise, so I pulled out the old sweaty step and the old Kathy Smith video and geared up for what I thought was a really low expectation work-out-- 20 to 25 minutes.  I figured the kids would just play and wouldn't really worry about mommy stepping up and down in one place while a boring lady talked on TV.  Boy was I wrong.  I had some little helpers.  My three year-old wanted to try out my step just like the pretty lady, so I went downstairs and found her a little step, which I had to keep moving because she wanted to be right. Next. To me.  (the same child that wants to sit on my lap every meal)  I really think it is cute, and I like having a buddy.  But I'm not getting much exercise.  The baby decides to sit on the step and watch the movie.  He has hardly watched TV in his life, he has never been interested, and he chooses now to suddenly be interested in that boring lady on TV.  He is sitting so cute on my step, what can I do?  So I try my best to step around him; sometimes I can only fit the tip of my toe on the step without squishing little fingers.  It was very creative.  Then about 6 minutes in, he started to say "hold you."  I tried putting him on the couch, but he would return to the foot of my step and cry, holding up his arms and saying "hold you!"  So I ended up shutting it off and holding "you" because he would not be deterred. 

When it was time for dance all we could find were holey tights (laundry room smelling like someone died in there) and a be-smudged leotard (are those stains or is it dirty?  sometimes I can't tell).  And the laundry I had washed the day before but hadn't had a chance to fold (running kids to soccer and scouts and whatever else) was now scattered in a lava-style volcano blast all across my room, as different kids had tossed out items in search of others as they hunted for that sock or pair of jeans or whatever it was.  Earlier we'd found one ballet slipper in the trunk of the car, then went on a hunt for the other one.  I took one look at my floor, almost completely covered in disheveled clothes, and thought, "what a joke."  There was no stinkin' way I was finding that ballet slipper in there.  (all the while thinking-- why do I live like this again?)  I lifted up a few items, but lets just say, it was pointless.  Because I've had this little girl late to dance pretty much every lesson for a year, and I'm always apologizing for it and promising to change, I thought....we can not be late!  Her teacher is going to think I am the worst mother in the world! (as she watches my child dance with her toe poking out of her tights, since we couldn't find her other slipper)

These are the times I can feel my blood pressure rising, rising, rising, that at any minute I might just, well, explode into a thousand mommy pieces in a gooey mess just like that bowl of soup. (I wonder if anyone would clean it up or if they would just step right over it, lol) Over and over this crazy morning I kept saying to myself what. a. joke.

Then of course, the baby was suddenly smelling a little ripe.  Worst timing.  So I quickly plopped him down on the floor and changed his diaper, resigning myself to swallowing my mom pride for at least one more week.

So we rounded up random shoes after finding several pairs with no mates (where in the world do they run off to?  Just took them off yesterday?), fed the cats (can't just leave them to starve while I'm gone), buckled everyone in, and got in the car.  My blood pressure was holding steady at an abnormally high level, but luckily so far no animals had been harmed in the making of this movie.  I kept thinking what a joke.  What a joke.  What a joke.

So we're sitting there, in the car, holey tights and all, but everyone is buckled in and safe and quiet for a minute.  The leaves had changed in the neighborhood and the sun was shining through yellow veined leaves and red ones.  The mountains looked like they had been dusted in powdered sugar-snow over night.  The sky was so blue and the day was just so pretty.  And I realized-- we are all safe, I didn't lose it and go in my closet and scream to myself like I felt like doing (I have never done this, but read about it in a book and I definitely feel this way some days).  I am choosing certain things over others.  I could have told my kids no activities or I could choose to spend less time on them and just be a maid all day.  Or I could quit nursing or exercising or something.  I am choosing my life right now, and its not all good or all bad, and I can keep on working on getting better at being more organized and accept the rest for now.  I can't always choose those last minute little things that are out of my control or whether someone spills or loses something but I can learn to choose to laugh about it.  It is a joke.  A big one.  That I will look back at some day with fondness, in spite of it all.  I will miss those little fingers vying for attention on my Kathy Smith step or the arms up, wanting me, and only me.  I have little ones that want to hang with me all day and into the night.  Hey, I'm popular right now.  And that is a good place to be.  It won't always be that way.  Some day I'm sure I will want to frame those little fingerprints on my step or crave having a little girl sit on my lap, even if it means I can't quite get a full meal in.  Or miss the big boy who wants to tell me all about his friend's weird jokes or a little girl who still loves my hugs or has to be reminded to pick up her shoes (every single day).  It is crazy, but it is crazy good.  And crazy funny sometimes.  And I love it.  I'd choose it again, over and over, holey tights and all.

The crazy didn't end there.  Later that day I attempted to clean my messy house before scouts.  The other leader who works with me, whom I love, she is so fabulous (I have had some really great scout partners, and I love scouts, makes up for having to wear those ignominious yellow shirts).  But she has never even once seen my house clean (and hers is gorgeous and spotless).  Baby was crying and hanging on me, it was a joke.  :)  So I let him play on the porch while I did the bare minimum of throwing in some dishes and running a rag over the beauty that was my sticky countertops.  When I went to retrieve him (he was with his sister and I technically could see them through the window, though I clearly wasn't paying close attention to what they were doing, as you will see), he had taken little fistfulls of dirt and thrown them all over the porch.  It was time for scouts, and in spite of the dirty porch it was still better than my house, so we sat on little dirt crumbs for an hour-- I once had a scout start pulling my obnoxiously big weeds during a lesson).  That night I threw together a plain noodle-carrots-out-of-the-bag dinner, got my kids ready for bed, then welcomed in a man from our ward (congregation) just as hubby was getting home.  After some large small talk, he asked me to be the secretary for the children's organization in our local church.  This had to be the biggest joke of the day!  For the first time in my life, I actually turned to my husband right then and there and commented on the irony of the situation (you are all too familiar with my disorganization and attempts to remedy this).  Me, a secretary?  Aren't secretaries supposed to be the organized ones?  Ha ha, someone has a sense of humor.  Of course I said yes, and we will see if the women I will be working with will be laughing a few months from now.  :)

Yes, I really realized, it really is a big huge joke!  That I get to live in and be a part of and contribute to the punch line.  And remember it with happy tears years later, when the chaos is a distant memory and so are the little voices singing some repetitive song while I'm trying to handle some emergency.  I'll take it.   But it doesn't mean I still can't go in the closet and scream sometimes-- its all part of the joke.  One that I can laugh at, letting that lightness creep into my in-the-moment stressed heart, and see that these crazy days really are funny-- I just need to see it.  And some day I'll miss it, crazy and all.


Laughing about our crazy sledding experiences-- a video on my husband's phone.

How do you help yourself lighten up when in a stressful situation?  How do you help yourself see the funny in it? 

Children's Charity and Thankful

I mentioned a couple of months ago that I wanted to use the proceeds from this blog to donate to charities that benefit children.   Then I got tired of having ads on my blog, so I pulled them off temporarily.

Well, I got paid for the ads I had on my blog earlier, which got me thinking about it again.  (just in case you are tempted to try ads on your blog, its not exactly that lucrative...I made 1 cent for a loooongg time, eventually earning 10 dollars for four months of blogging- I felt rich after watching that one penny sit there for what felt like forever before creeping up to that whopping ten bucks :))  That, and all the Sandy stuff has been tugging at my heart, and I want to help, so I'm going to resuscitate the idea of giving to a children's charity each month.  I hope the ads aren't too annoying.  I figure now I can look at them as being there for a good cause-- helping raise money to help children with some of the opportunities and necessities of life.

If you would like to donate, go ahead.  Or if you have a charity you'd like me to look at in for a different month, that sounds great, just leave me a comment or email me (5for50mom@gmail.com).  :)

This month I'm just going to give to the oldie but goodie, the American Red Cross, (here).  I also found this website, which has some useful info about donating in a crisis, with rankings for different charities, some which specifically help children. 

This month I have been feeling extra grateful for the big things: my safe, warm home, for food to eat, and for my five beautiful and healthy children!  My husband has been extra kind and attentive lately, too, surprising me with little one-a-day short text messages that have brightened my day.  I'm also thankful for this project, how it has helped me enjoy those little things I was less aware of before, including the smell of my baby's head after a bath, his arms wrapped tightly around my neck, thankful for little scrawled love notes and childish giggles, for flying sleds down a white hill, for park days and preschool days and even for jumping!

And thankful to Heavenly Father for supporting me and helping me through so much.

A couple of years ago we tried something-- for each day leading up to Thanksgiving we did an act of service to show gratitude for something we had.  For example, if we were thankful for our home, we'd give to the homeless shelter.  To show we were thankful for our new baby, we donated some baby items to a local hospital.  They don't have to be big like this, these are just some ideas that I can think of off the top of my head.  We are doing it again this year, I'll let you know how it goes! 

If you want to read a touching story, that will make you thankful for your little ones, give you perspective, and inspire you, read this blog written by a friend of mine who lost a baby seven years ago.  She and her husband turned the experience into a positive one for hundreds of people as each year they do service to remember the 18 days he was alive.  Warning:  keep your tissues handy.

What are you thankful for?