MAYBE YOU’LL SEE THIS IN YOUR MAIL, AND MAYBE YOU WON’T

 

If you’re just tuning in then you don’t know what happened in 2009.  If you’ve been with us for a while then this is a recap…

In January someone turned 6.  That’s it, rather a dull monthly actually, as January usually is.

In February we joined Vassee in Hawaii.

In March we threw a surprise party for Mr. Right who got another year older.  The Princess saw her first big musical theater production.  I also told Mr. Right to kill me because…

In April I ran my first and last 1/2 marathon.

In May my friends asked me why it was my last and I said it was because it was boring..which it was.  More importantly, if something else happened, I don’t remember.

In June we started getting excited because in September we were going to go somewhere special.  Also my friend Susan moved and that made me sad.

In July Papa built us a condo in some of the trees in our backyard and Mr. Right built the rest of the Ewok village to go with it.

In August, on the hottest and most humid day of the year, when the children had to sleep in front of the open French doors in our living room, we bought me the second love of my life.  She is big and blue and has four-wheel drive.  Who says you can’t buy love?

In September, with the twins recently turning 4, we did a lot of camping in the Olympic rainforests and most importantly we packed because…

In October we went to Disney World – should I say anymore?

In November we buckled down and got serious about homeschooling.  Someday I’ll post those classroom pictures, someday…

In December we were invaded with family who put up with my shenanigans and celebrated Christmas with us.

And tha-tha-tha-th-tha-that’s all folks.

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

Woke up this morning and they were gone.

It was I and three little bugs in the house.

We decided it was a no oatmeal day and indulged in “Sugar, Sugar and more Sugar” in a bowl with some milk poured on.

Then we read our scriptures and decided to play “pirates”.

I think The Princess will be relieved.  It is hard to not be one of the little ones and not one of the big ones.

It is hard to get gently teased and not know how to respond.

It is hard to want to participate in conversation but have nothing to contribute that an adult would listen to.

So she has been in a blissful state of happy.  Floating thru the quiet house and playing with the twins.

They didn’t get dressed until 11am.

Which brings me to the next subject.  As fun as sugar and slothfulness is, indulging in it for a week was plenty.

I am ready to get back in the saddle of hard work and healthy eating.

And I’m dragging my bugs with me.

(If you’re a glutton for punishment clink here to our holiday picture album and here for a plethora of videos.)

POOR POOR UNCLES, WHAT CHA’ GONNA DO?

He wants to go home but we won’t let him.

Lovergies and Vassee are staying a bit longer to wean me from my house full of family.

They while away their time wandering thru rooms looking at the pictures on my walls, rechecking the time or texting their girlfriends. 

And most importantly playing with little bugs.

We like single uncles. 

They won’t be nearly so much fun when they go get married some day.  Then they will want to sit around on the couch with their wives and cuddle.  Or when they have kids of their own they will stop lavishing little bugs with frivolous attention.

Boooooring.

Who wants that?

So we’re playing with them while we can.

Pulverizing them with our little bodies. 

Playing with their Christmas toys.

Breaking their Christmas toys.

Calling them vile names like, “Ugly face flat head.”

And realizing that the uncles didn’t fly home and are still at our house and therefore didn’t actually leave their candy behind for our consumption. 

(Yes Lovergies that is where your mints went.)

Nana, this is for you…

THAT'S DISGUSTING

I could discuss our Christmas week...but we'll save that for later.

For now let's just say that it recently occured to me that at least twice a day, for quite some time now, I've overheard The Princess say, "Aggh, Pirate, that's just disgusting."

I do not know what he does so often that is so disgusting.

And I do not want to know.

TAG YOU’RE IT

A lot of my siblings are here for the Christmas holiday which means three of the five people who read my blog are here at my house. 

And I’m posting pictures of them doing silly things.

P.S.  Per your numerous requests my previously posted poem will be in Wednesday’s paper.

Oh I hope they spell my name right.

A THANK YOU TO THE LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT

‘Twas the week before Christmas, when all through my home,

The twins banged the walls as the halls they did roam;

Their stockings were off and their jammies were on,

my husband and eldest for the evening were gone.

I eagerly herded the twins t’ward bed,

for visions of solitude danced in my head.

As ‘mama’ I love them, I love them I do,

but happy I am when I know the day’s through;

When far down my street there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my dreams to see what was the matter;

I flew to the window to see what could be seen.

I slid open the glass to peer thru the screen;

The perpetual rain that would not become snow,

gave a glistening shimmer to objects below;

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

but a van with a sign that read, “Santa is near!”

And a driver that called, “Get your shoes and be quick.”

“In only a moment he’ll be here. Saint Nick!”

More rapid then eagles, down the stairs the twins came,

As I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now Pixie! Now Pirate! Get your jackets on now!

Then get shoes on your feet and a hat on your brow!

To the front of the porch!  Please quick, heed my call!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

down in a gulley then out t’ward the sky

So dressed and then out the little ones flew.

Hours of  obedience training come through.

And then in a twinkling I heard in the street,

What sounded and looked like a fireman’s fleet.

With lights all a twirl and a caroling sound,     

Up the street St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot.

While his clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot,

A bundle of candy he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up in a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

His escort, the fire truck came slowly too,

It’s red and it’s silver shining like new.

Santa was plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed in the rain, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Gave my children to know they had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to the twins,

and gave them each candy which brought out their grins;

They waved with excitement the way children can,

and of course he waved back, that very nice man.

Then he turned to the street, to his team gave a nod.

And away they all went at a very slow plod.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he walked out of sight,

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night.

DEAR THE LEFT BEHIND

Dear Nana and Popo,

We are very sorry you will not be with us this holiday season.

Due to this very sad fact we have sent you a Christmas package but amidst the hustle and bustle we totally forgot to write on the outside DO NOT TO OPEN until Christmas day.

So...

DO NOT OPEN it until Christmas day.

By the way - in a week or so you'll be getting a package from us in the mail...Do NOT OPEN it until Christmas day.

I think I've made myself clear.

You will be sorely missed.

Love,

Three Little Bugs and Staff

P.S.  Popo – we have updated your name in our records.

DEAR HOLIDAY GUESTS

Dear Guests,

You are going to have a positively lovely time while visiting us.  At first I thought - let's plan for a dull time but Mr. Right convinced me that with all the money you are spending to get here we have to make it worth your while.

I said, Fine.

Lylario and Southern Belle- you will be staying in the Boys Suite.  While you do have a 2:1 ratio of girls to boy, it was the only available “actual” bed which we felt would be appreciated by Southern Belle in her particular condition.  You will be just down the hall from the bright green bathroom.  Don't be deceived by our choice of words.  It is, indeed, very bright green.

Dee Dee and Law Man - you will be staying in the spacious Master Suite.  We think this will accommodate your needs and offer you the least amount of stress during your late nights staying up with an infant - should you decide to do so.  You will have your own private bathroom as well.  Only it won't be very private because you will have to share it with us. 

Vassee - you will be staying in the Christmas room.  This is by far our largest living area.  It is also the most public which has advantages.  For example, you will be the first to smell oatmeal cooking in the morning (oh think of the delight!) and on Christmas Eve Santa will personally pay you a visit.  (Our children are giggly with excitement in your behalf.)

Lovergies - you will be rooming with Vassee.  It is a well known family secret that Vassee is the most loved of all the Kneisly clan (with Southern Belle a close second) and in this way we guarantee you too will enjoy your time with us.  We also know how much you love oatmeal and the bright pitter patter of hungry children every morning and knew you would feel particularly welcomed in this way.

Food.

The cook, with the greatest pleasure she can offer, has completed her savourous menu.  Not a finger will you have to lift when it comes to meal time.* 

Here at our house we understand the deeply rooted emotions connected to baking during the holiday season.  With that in mind the pantry has been stocked (by Mr. Right) with chocolate, nuts, spices, marshmallows, Chex cereals, sugars and flour.  Our kitchen is your kitchen.

Now for the entertainment. 

Your mornings may be spent at your leisure, afternoon outings can be scheduled as you desire (there is baking, crafting, reading, and movies to watch), but your evenings you must leave to us!  I will say nothing more except - every evening will further your enjoyment of the Christmas season here in the Pacific Northwest.

That way, when the holiday is over you will return to your respective homes, put your suitcases back in storage, sit on your couch and say, "Yes indeed.  It was worth our while."

We anticipate your upcoming visit with much excitement!

Love

Three Little Bugs and Staff

*Due to the current economy we have let go the cleaning crew.  We suggest you pitch in during meal clean up other wise you'll be pitched.  And we mean that in the nicest way possible.

20 YEARS THAT WILL GO BY FAST

A while ago I padded around after Mr. Right until finally he acknowledged my presence.  At that point it was unavoidable as I was laying on the floor behind his computer chair.

I’m sad I said as I loudly crunched another Triscuit.  I was eating them straight out of the bag that is how under the weather I was.

“Why are you sad?” He asked.

Because I love our kids.

He looked at me and said, “And they are growing up.”

YES!  I sobbed. 

Mr. Right was right.  He knew exactly how I could love my kids and be sad at the same time.

Then he said to me, “I looked at The Princess yesterday and thought, ‘She is almost seven!’”

Those of you who consider yourself ancient might think “Only seven?  Honey you’ve got years to go.” 

Sure, OK. 

But as dear Papa said seven years ago when he looked between me and my newborn Princess, “It goes by so fast.”

Mr. Right turned off the computer and helped me to my feet (dragged).  And let me continue:

“…and I want them to grow up.  I expect them to have their own lives some day.  I hope their lives are so happy and busy that I am just a lucky bystander.  But what will I do then?  I have to do something.  Otherwise how can I be happy when they are gone?”

“You’ll manage”  he said. 

By now he was getting out his Harry Potter book.  That’s his cue that I’ve used my word quota for the day.

“Not likely” I muttered.  “I probably won’t manage and I’ll end up killing them with my lavish attention.”

(This was not going to be an optimistic conversation after all.)

Twenty years of chaos and then what?

Twenty years is, uh, years away but by the wisdom of experienced parents the prophesy stands that “it goes by so quickly.”

So here’s my wonder…what should I do in twenty years when they’re gone???

Nana is exploring a new career.

Another mama I know spends a lot of time watching her grandkids.

Another spends a lot of time in her garden.

What in the world will I fill my time with??

Because heaven knows I ain’t gettin’ dirty in the garden.

What’ll I do?

Never mind, I know the aanswer.

It involves a lot of sleeping and reading. 

And looking at my house that I had cleaned two days previous and it’s still really clean.

Oooohhhh, this could actually be good.

FAST BUT KIND OF SLOW

You win 10 pennies if you know what I laughed at.

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

We are very, very busy.

The bugs would disagree.  They wander about looking for something new to investigate.

But nevertheless we are very busy.

We have advents to create, and decorations to put up, and curriculums to learn, and posters for the New Year to make, and shopping to do and events to plan and books to read and daily chores to accomplish and, and, and…

We are very busy.

They just do not know it.

GENDER

Mr. Right says, “They’re playing the same game, just using different characters.”

A SILVER LINING CALLED INVISIBLE DIRT

Every morning we wake up.

At which point I try to convince the moaning, groaning sleepy heads to get dressed before I have the oatmeal made.

Oatmeal is not the hugest incentive but it works. 

I firmly believe little beggars  can’t be choosers.

So this morning I began all the usuals but felt something was oddly amiss.

What is different? I thought as I fumbled my contacts in.

What is different? I thought as I looked in the girls room and saw The Pixie had forgotten, again, that I am not the jammie or bed maid.

What is different? I thought as I sat down to oatmeal that Mr. Right had made.

Then I looked out my dirty kitchen windows and thought, Those kitchen windows are dirty. 

And  I realized what was different.

The sun!

It was shining down on our soggy world and lighting up my dirty kitchen windows! 

After three very rainy weeks it was suddenly and briefly very, very sunny.

Children hurry and eat your breakfast so you can go look at the sun!

Gobble your oatmeal so you can curl up on that sunny spot of the carpet!

Quick, quick so you can get your vitamin D!

The Pirate was finished first.  As he flew by the sink he flung his breakfast bowl into it and oatmeal splattered up onto my dirty windows.

I did not care, so happy was I for him to feel the sun on his really cute cheeks.

Into the living room he romped and after a brief moment I heard him cry out, “I see my shadow!!!”

The long lost friend.

Which encouraged the rest of us to rush the most important meal of the day so we too could find our shadows.

Pirate, run and grab my camera for me.  It is upstairs.  Hurry!

And off he ran.  As he was coming back down the stairs he called out, “Is it gone?  Is the sun gone?”

Eventually it was.

By 2pm it was raining again.

For which I thanked those cloudy heavens.

I have issues with sunny days – I’d rather not notice my dirty windows.

JOY AND PAIN

I won’t exactly admit to what happened to the entire bag of Almond Joy’s, but it was prefaced by me saying, “I could eat this whole bag of Almond Joy’s.”

And then The Princess said to me, 

“Well mom…then eat your head off.”

I found this a mite disgusting, even more so than eating an entire bag of candy all by myself. 

I showed her my disgust by the shocked pause in my actions.

She reconsidered her words,

“I mean…I mean…chew your heart out.”

This made us both pause and consider.

Oh honey, that was almost worse.

“Forget it.” 

And she left the room.

In disgust.

IF IT MEANS I MUST PREPARE TO SHOULDER BURDENS WITH A WORRIED AIR (i won’t grow up)

 

You know how much we love the story of Peter Pan at our house?

Well, we do.

So we went to Seattle and saw the play.

It was so fun.  It was perfectly done and the bugs were captivated.  Even The Pixie who proclaimed the whole time that she wanted to go home.

We’ve been theater going folk lately.  Wicked…Joseph and the Technicolor Dream Coat…Curtains…Peter Pan…next week I go to Sweet Charity.

Going to the theater is so much fun isn’t it?

Yeah.

But this was with the whole family and that made it better.

Especially when The Princess made a grown man laugh.

He over heard her trying to tell The Pixie the story of Hamlet.

 

“It’s kind of hard to explain really” she was saying.  “You see, no one is happy and well, everyone dies.”

Her mind is a a steel trap.  A little mite of knowledge floats nearby and she grabs at it, never to let go. 

Only what are the odds that Hamlet would get mentioned twice in one evening?

Pretty high I suppose if we were at a Shakespeare festival.  Or hanging around with Aunt Lynette.

But we were doing neither and during the second act of Peter Pan the Lost Boys ask Wendy to tell them the ending to Cinderella.  She is their mother after all.

“Well,” Wendy says, “the Prince rescues her and they live happily ever after!”

“Oh!!”  say the Lost Boys. “Tell us the ending of Sleeping Beauty!”

“All right.  Well, the Prince kisses her and she wakes up!”

“Ohh!!” say the Lost Boys.  “Tell us the ending of Hamlet!”

Their was a brief silence as the adults caught on (at least those that had seen Mel Gibson in that movie version – or the ignorant two that had heard their six-year old’s retelling earlier that evening.)

But the only child to laugh was The Princess.

Right out loud.

She thought it was a great joke.   

FEEL GOOD FRIDAY ON WEDNESDAY

It is totally and completely Autumn time.

Sometimes that means lots of rain.

This does not bother me one inkling.

It is autumn.  That is what it does in Autumn.

And it’s beautiful and I love it. 

I love it when it’s raining outside and we are inside, maybe making forts with Mr. Right, maybe stringing bead necklaces, maybe watching Star Wars.

I love it when we’re outside and my bugs are wearing their hoodies and galoshes.

I love it when the sun makes corpuscular rays and lights up the evergreens on the farm nearby. 

Autumn colors are much brighter against grey clouds.

Also it means Christmas is coming.  The goose is getting fat.

I am perfectly happy with fall weather.  Cold and dreary means warm and cheerful inside.  With music, and candles and enchiladas.  Which The Pirate gobbles, The Pixie sneers at and The Princess chokes down.

I am NEVER happy with fall weather in winter.  THEN I think it is depressing.  THEN I self-medicate with Netflix and on-line shopping.  But that’s months away.  Months I tell you.  Let’s not even mention it.

Right now, if you are feeling a bit under…the weather…you need an upper.  So whether you are Mormon or not I am pretty sure you’ll feel good when you read this.

IRON CHEF

 

Saturday night it was a live episode of Iron Chef at our house.

The contestants:

Baxters vs. Powells

We cooked Thai food. 

The secret ingredient:

Tomato Paste

The Powells won.

As a side note, even with the boy girl ratio being in favor of the boys for the evening, the male species spent their time playing Barbie’s Princess and the Pauper on the computer and talking to her on the pink phone she gave us.

A PHONETIC LESSON (because we already know how to peell)

From here on out let it be declared that sometimes homeschooling is hard for the mom.

Like when you see all the eye catching crafts other mommies are doing and putting on their blogs, or you are thinking of all the books your friends are reading and you are not.

But today it was hard for the child.

Like when I maliciously asked, How many sounds are in your name?

“What???!!”

Count the sounds in your name.

A stubborn “Three!”  incorrectly flies from her mouth.

OK, listen: AAAAA-VVVVVV-RRRRR-EEEEE. 

I purposely do not spell it right.  I am stressing  phonemes.

She responds with a scowl, “My name does NOT have an F.”

An F?  What?  OK, listen again:  aaaa-VVVVV-rrr-eee

“Stop it!”

What?  Stop what?  VVVVV….VVVVV

“You are trying to make it sound like an F!  Stop it!”

Are you…?  No.  Listen:  VVVV

(my lips were tingling) 

VVVV

(I can’t make it any clearer)

VVVV

“Stop it!  You are so mean!”

I think this is funny.  Is she serious?  VV vs. FF?

(Is this how Mr. Right feels when he and I communicate? – No.  No. Don’t go there.)

Instead I say in a professional voice, I am not going to talk to you for ten minutes.  I am watching the clock.

And she says, “Uggg”  and throws her pencil down.

And inside I am laughing because this is what I have to look forward to.  And it’s hilarious.

HOW TO MAKE A SHORT STORY LONG

 Almost three years ago we moved into this house.

This house with it’s own septic and well system.

We have not installed a garbage disposal.

And it’s disgusting, I know, but we keep a colander in the sink where we scoop the remains of our meals.  Then occasionally, when the mood strikes us or the flies have gotten bad, we dump it in the trash bin.

Almost five months ago we had new counters installed.  Then we bought the tiles for the backsplash.  We bought all the necessary installation needs.  We would tile the backsplash ourselves.  And then we stuck the equipment under the desk and decided to worry about it later.

Last week “later” came and Mr. Right decided that before we invest our knowledge, sweat and elbow grease (along with a tidy sum to a sitter while we worked)  why not just get a quote from a professional.

Professional came.

Quote was $160. 

He also looked with disdain at the pile of sundries under the desk and with a shake of the head informed us we could return to the store at least $100 worth.

I’m not the sharpest tool in the math shed but even I could figure out that one.

The professional tiled our walls and then he said, “In three days spray this sealant on the tiles.  Cover your counter first so it won’t ruin it.”

You are thinking this is where the story goes south.  You’re worried about our counters.

Don’t worry.  Mr. Right covered the counters but before he did the spraying he decided to run errands.  Half the sink was covered with cardboard.  The colander half.  Just a smidge of the colander peeked available under the cardboard.

And sure it was trouble for me to carefully dump out the oatmeal remnants, the cottage cheese remains, and the rice leftovers into what I could see of the colander.  But that’s what I did through out the live long day.

Skip the colander and go straight for the trash bin?  Whatever.  The proper place for rubbish is first the colander, then the trash bin. 

Habits die hard.

You’re still trying to figure where I’m going with this long story aren’t you? 

Almost there…

Later, after the tile was sprayed, and the cardboard removed and dinner was eaten and dishes half cleaned, Mr. Right felt a good wrestle with offspring was in order.

There was wrestling and yelling galore.  Suddenly there was one loud Princess yell and then one loud Mr. Right yell where he shrieked to her,

“You are NOT supposed to spit when we’re wrestling!!!  That’s disgusting!!!  I’m done.”

And while The Princess was left smiggling (smirk + giggle) at her assault, he came into the kitchen…

wiped his face with his hand…

flung her wad of spittle into the trash…

and then picked up the full colander of oatmeal, cottage cheese and rice and dumped it into the trash as well.

And that is the moment we heard a Princess scream from the bathroom.  “My tooth is gone!!!  My front tooth is gone!!!

Mr. Right ran to the bathroom, and she was right.

“Where is it?!?”  She gasped between the now, slightly bloody but definitely wider gap in her front teeth.

And quick as that we all knew. 

Mr. Right returned to the kitchen and stood over the trash bin and looked at that pile of oatmeal, cottage cheese and rice and knew what needed to happen.

I could describe how he dug through that pile of stuff.

How he said, “Oatmeal and cottage cheese and …  It couldn’t be harder to find.  And there’s gobs of it.”

How after he searched for 15 minutes and I laughed at him, I took pity and declared a cease search.

But why drag it out? 

And that, short story long, is how her first lost tooth, actually was…lost.

(And how I ended up with maahhvelously, beautifully tiled walls.)

DON’T WORRY, YOU’LL GET A TURN

I’ve felt it spiraling towards us.

Our fate a certainty.

It’s absoluteness so clear that I firmly believe everyone in America will get their chance.

I got my chance last year when Mr. Right kindly brought it home from work.  You didn’t know that  because I never told you.

The Pirate got it last year too. 

But this year all our friends were getting it.  It came closer and closer and then this week  The Pixie got it.

The dreaded, week long, it’s inevitable you’re going to get it one of these years, H1N1.

Frankly I think it’s opened up a world of opportunities for me.

For example:

Oh I’m sorry, I can’t volunteer in the pre-school tomorrow…  I’ve got the swine flu.

Or.

Oh I’m sorry I was supposed to bring you dinner and I didn’t… I’ve got the swine flu.

Oh I’m sorry I hit your car…I’ve got the swine flu.

Or.

I’m sorry I can’t come to work…

I’m sorry I can’t watch your kids…

I’m sorry I can’t pay my phone bill…

The excuses are endless.

And if your kids end up with it and not you…even better.

I’m sorry I can’t come to church…my kids have the swine flu.

I’m sorry I didn’t answer the phone all day and you had an emergency…my kids have the swine flu.

You could replace “she” with “he” if it works better for your circumstances.  I used “she” this week because the girls received it’s coming with an embrace.

Unfortunately The Pixie is now on the up and up.  She’s just well enough to wander around complaining.  For the first couple of days she barely spoke.  She just laid on the kitchen floor with her blanket and babies and sippy-cup.

She barely had energy to get up.

After two days of silence she spoke up,

“Mom, I’m sick and I’m hungry and I don’t know which one to choose.”

Food darling.  Always food.  It’s the answers to almost all my life problems.

Except, well, not lately. 

Food and I have had a run in.

Ironically. 

But that’s another post, except it’s not really post material.  You’d probably be bored and …well…fine.  I’ll tell you right here.

I have an ulcer.

Boooorrrrring.

I had to go to the doctors.

Embaaaaaaressing.

I can’t eat solids for another week.

Which means I’ll be cured just in time to consume mass quantities of hydrogenated fat and high fructose corn syrup during the holidays.

Not even post material I tell you.

Oh.  Oh.  And by the way,  

I’m sorry I didn’t post pictures of our new school…my kids have the swine flu.

ROOM TO LEARN

At the library last week I was paying my monthly dues and checking out my cartload of books.

Finally the librarian looked at me and asked, “Are you a teacher?”

Did she ask this because no sane mom would borrow 103 books at a time or because I look like a teacher?  

Maybe my spectacles and cardigan gave me away.

I looked her in the eye and for the first time in a public setting, declared “We homeschool.”

See?

  

Yup, I’m one of those ladies.

You know exactly what I’m talking about.

My brothers were horrified when I announced my intentions a year ago.

“Your kids will turn out like us!!”  They gasped in horror.

I admit that was something I took into consideration when making my plans and weighing pros and cons.

But once the school year started there we were every morning, in the dining room, studying, until finally someone intervened.

Me.

I intervened.

I told Mr. Right, I’m sick of having school in the dining room.  I’m sick of spending three hours each morning in our dimly lit cubby of a room where I have to clean it all up and get it all out every day. 

Do you want to quit?

Nope.  The opposite.  I want a classroom.

I dream big.

And Mr. Right is always supportive when I set my mind to something big.  Though I think deep down he’s muttering, “Give the woman an inch and she takes a whole room…”

So I plotted and measured and spent my mullah and The Princess chose the paint color and Mr. Right moved furniture around and swore that this was the last time he would move that treadmill from room to room and two weeks later:

We have a classroom.

It opens next Monday.

We have three little bugs who’s eyes get big when they wander in.

The Pixie kept seating herself at the school table and saying, “What do I do next?”

The Princess stands in the doorway and wants classes to start.

The Pirate jumps on me and says, “When I’m big I’ll come to your school too.”

Because even though he loves Miss Maryanne, his preschool teacher, he knows that we have fun in our school.

I mean A LOT of fun.  You never knew learning could be this fun that’s how much fun we have.

My brothers would even want to go to school here.  Yes they would.

By the way, anyone out there have pictures of my guest room? 

I mean my OLD guest room.

Yeah – sorry guests.  It’s the couch from now on.

BITS AND PEICES

The Pirate was singing an interesting song choice, as pirates go.  It’s the spelling song from Super Why.  Here’s how it goes for Pirates:

“I really love to spell.”

“P-e-e-l-l.”

“I really love to spell.”

“P-e-e-l-l.”

 

And later, I interrupted his singing of the Veggie Tales song by asking,

Pirate, what’s your favorite color?

“Batman black.”

______________

The Pixie came and sat down next to me.  She has a little fever.  She rubbed her little bare legs then sighed,

“Ah man, I have duck bumps.”

______________

The Pixie said, “I want to go back to Disney World.”

I know but we would need to save up money again if we wanted to go.

The Princess added to the conversation by dreaming, “When I grow up I want to live next to Disney World.  Then I could work there.”

Maybe you could be one of the princesses.

She looked at me blankly and then, “Uh, yeah, and maybe I could be one of those cookers.”

Uhmmm…Ok.

A SPOONFUL LATER

The aftermath (with Tom and Jerry.)

You should know that The Pixie has a thing for kitties.  As in, during pretend play there is always someone strong and somewhat violent and then there is a kitty.

Like:

“I’m a transformer!”  “And I’m a kitty.”

or

“I’m Batman!”  “And I am his little kitty.”

or

“This is my really cool hero!”  “And this is my kitty.”

or

“I’m going to save everybody!”  “And my kitty will help.”        

It was presumptuously idiotic of me to borrow her a cheerleader costume for Halloween.

I was chastised and so quickly traded the cheerleading outfit for the kitty one.

And The Pirate was a really cool hero who saved everybody…

And The Princess was a beautiful ballerina…

And I was practically perfect in every way.

 

Because in my pretend play… that’s what I am.

BOOK DISCUSSION: THE JUNGLE BOOK

The Princess tells us about the recently read book The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling.  (For this you should know that in Hindi bander means monkey and log means people.)

So what did you like most about the story The Jungle Book?

Kaa the rock snake and that Mowgli had adventures.

What adventures are you thinking of?

The adventure with the bander-log.

What did he do with the monkeys, go to the beach?

No (ha ha ha) they kidnapped him and he got thrown in a building.

Why?

Because they wanted to keep him for themselves and kill his friends.

So you’d call an adventure you getting kidnapped and someone trying to kill your friends?

Yeah – well, it’s kind of exciting.

Isn’t it kind of scary?

Yeah – probably for Mowgli.

Let’s move on.  Why did the wolves adopt Mowgli?

Because he was harmless.

And when he got older why didn’t they want him?

Because he had hands and he could use fire.

How did he kill Shere Khan?  Did he use the fire or his hands?

No – he used the bulls.

So it wasn’t his hands, fire or bulls that made him dangerous to the animals it was knowing…

how to use them.

Yes you’re right.  What do you think he learned from being kidnapped by the bander-log?

Not to play with them.

Who told him not to play with them?

Baloo.

Who is Baloo like in your life…(pause)…your parents?

Yeah, but also a lot like Natalee because she likes to tell me what to do.

How many crowns would you give The Jungle Book: one to five.

Five crowns.

FEEL GOOD FRIDAY ON TUESDAY

Last weekends Halloween party wasn’t enough.  Tonight we’re getting all gussied up for or our Trunk-or-Treat and Fun House.

To get you in the dress-up mood clink here and feel good (or sick) by checking out what people are willing to do to their poodles.

Yes my friends, that isn’t a panda.  It’s a dog.

HERE IT COMES

I used to be such a poo-pooer of Halloween.  Because, well, I’ve forgotten why now. 

Now it’s just one more thing to look forward too.

When we’re bringing out the long sleeve shirts and goulashes in the beginning of October, we know it’s coming.

When I turn on Harry Potter and start making “Ghosts” The Princess squeals in delight and dashes over to the calendar to double check because she knows it is coming soon.

When we start making soups every other day I know it’s getting close.

When I find myself at Goodwill three times in the last week…it’s almost here.

If October is the unwelcome beginning of a long, cold season, then Halloween is like the spoonful of sugar that helps it go down.

By the way, what will you be?

WHY WHY WHY

After reading Dan Browns latest novel I was thinking about the fore-fathers of our nation and pondering the real mysteries of God when I suddenly recalled a moment:

I was brushing The Princess’ hair one morning. 

This is not fun for her.

Or me.

But it must be done and there we were doing it when she piped up,

“Why do we have to brush our hair every morning?”

Because it’s one of those things that must be done.  And you’ll feel nice if you do.  And if you don’t I won’t bring you in public because it’s a standard I keep so that the public feels more kindly towards my children when they misbehave.

“So we have to.”

Yes.

“Does Heavenly Father have to brush his hair every morning?”

I really don’t know.

“Well then, that must be one of the mysteries of God.”

Yup.  I’m sure she can bet her crown on that one.

THE REST OF THE STORY

As sick as I am of Disney World (it only took 750 pictures to do it to me) I felt one last post was in order.

The above shot represents 85% of my interactions with The Pixie over the course of the entire week we were there.

Her “up???” and my “NO.”  was our standard communication.

So she found someone else to comply to her demands…

And for your benefit…these are some of my DW tips:

You might look like an idiot wearing the same color as your spouse – but it’s easy to spot them when they wander off.

You might feel like an idiot wearing the same color as your child – but it’s easy to tell the Cast Members what your child is wearing when you loose them.  Because you WILL loose them.

It’s only worth going if you have the Free Dining Plan.  (Unless you LIKE spending $1700 worth on food.)

Have your Nana pack yummy snacks, then make her carry them all day long – even if you don’t want them.

Tell your bugs you will only buy one keepsake and then when you buy two they will think you are the best queen ever.

When you buy two keepsakes make your Nana pay for half of it.

Have your Papa come.  He will laugh at your jokes even when he is exhausted and hot and wondering why you talked him into this.  Maybe he will even bring doughnuts. 

Have your Papa buy a Hidden Mickey’s book.  You will have loads of fun finding them.

Don’t do more in a day than your bugs can do.  (And since bugs can go go go, your Papa can take a rest if he needs one.)

One of your days, and this is important, let your Mr. Right take your bugs swimming while you sit back and read your book.

And this, for the last time, is the rest of the story…

View Full Album