In my effort to not be random, I failed...

Does it surprise anyone that M is more troublesome with the Christmas tree than GQ? Not that he isn't willing to join in the fun once she gets it started! In fact, I am not quite sure why I put the tree up this year since we are leaving halfway through the month, and since I have to move it every Wednesday/Thursday for Ballet.

*****

On Sunday, M wore the black dress she wore for Halloween to Church. This disturbs her because she is convinced it is a witch costume not a dress. Then, at Church she asked if the Deacons were Trick-or-Treating when they were passing the sacrament.

*****

After I finally decided to decorate - despite the reasons above, and my overwhelming laziness lately, especially when it comes to holidays, E informed me:

"Mom, I think you put way too many decorations out."

I said, "But I think they look pretty."

She said, "As long as you stop now."

Well, then.

*****

Tragically, today I saw my first dead mouse.

I have locked the door to the garage - where he will stay entombed until Justin comes home.

But I keep thinking: he is upside-down in the trap. How does a mouse get upside-down in a trap? Did I catch an acrobatic mouse?

This is the 9th mouse. We actually catch very few these days, but apparently they are still here.

*****

No snow here yet. Maybe Winter will skip us completely.

More Birthday Trauma for M

Justin's birthday is really close to mine, so when it came, I didn't make him a cake. We were caked out. I told him I would make it some other day when he wanted it.

Today I made his cake.

M: What's that?
Me: That's Dad's birthday cake.
M, with a really sad-looking lower lip: When will it be my birthday?

I told her that it was the next birthday, and that I would make a pink cake.

Laura.... Laura.... Laura......

Thanksgiving Treat

Since we did Thanksgiving on Saturday, today was a quiet day.

We did have this yummy treat tonight:

2 cups raspberries
2 cups whole milk
2 cups vanilla ice cream
2 T sugar

Very simple.
Which is why I liked making it.
But I made Justin scoop the ice cream, because I am a pansy.

Bad Stories about Bulls, Rattlesnakes, Raw Turkeys, Dead Mice, and Tubby Poop

On Sunday I had to think of 5 pointless/interesting/funny items about myself. The following is one that I came up with:

When I was little, my family took me to the rodeo and told me that - at some point during the action - the bulls would be let out to run amongst the crowd. They told me that the crowd would put their feet up into the air, and that the bulls would run across everyone's boots.

I did not have boots, and was concerned, so I decided I would hide under my chair.

At this point I was told that it was also commonplace - during the rodeo - to let rattlesnakes out into the stands to slither about everyone's feet.

And, oh yes, I believed.

I will have you also know that these stories were not told to me by 14-17 year old boys - as one would think - but also by my Uncle and Aunt. This is because it is fairly easy/fun/satisfying to tease Jamie Robyn.

In an effort to let this sporting fun continue - what with the distance and everything - I will share the following stories:

1. Our family had Thanksgiving on Saturday. This was because my mother was in town, and I was able to "make" Thanksgiving Dinner without actually touching a raw turkey, or pulling any of its innards out. I still cook chicken by picking the raw meat up with tongs, so this was an accomplishment. I don't think I could have picked up a turkey with tongs. Everyone was glad my mother was around to bring in the holidays.

2. We have so far caught 7 mice - and I have managed to see ZERO. This morning I crawled in the van through the wrong door and shut my eyes while Justin got rid of the latest catch. I really do not want to see a dead mouse.

3. I have decided that GQ will now be bathed complete with swim diaper. After having to clean up 3 children and a tubby full of toys after a not-so-solid poop episode... I think this will be the best option. Don't you?

It's Getting Colder

I remember when E was M's age.

Almost every post was about her, it's a funny age.

Now, her funny stories are just as funny, but more subtle... and so I don't always feel up to telling them how they really are.

But she does still have them.

Like just now, when I told her I loved her. And then, I told her again.

And then, she said:

"Mom, I am in the middle of reading a book. Please go away."

Now, if that's not my daughter, I'll eat M's sparkle potty shoe.

Or earlier this week when, after reading several Chinese fairy tales, she told me:

"Mom, China is like Disneyland. No one is poor there and no one wears rags."

Who sent the Little Red Book to our house?

****

Meanwhile, GQ is sick. He only threw up three times, but now he just lays around the house. Very sad looking. I am hoping no one else gets sick, especially since my mom is visiting next week.

****

Yesterday, I finally bought some mouse traps.

For some reason (some reason = mental anguish over ever having to actually see a dead squashed mouse) I have had a hard time buying traps. Instead, I secured and moved most of our food, and made a board to cover the crack between the pantry door and the kitchen floor.

This solved most problems, but not all, so I finally bought the traps.

Then, I told Justin I wanted nothing to do with them.

Last night he went "hunting" and caught one perpetrator. Two of the traps were looted, but not sprung.

I stayed upstairs and said the ABC's over and over while he went to check the traps.

Yuck.

Yesterday...

... M put her shoe down the toilet.

Apparently this kept her very busy because when she came out, she peed on the floor.

It must have been like when you go upstairs to get something, and you can't remember what it was:

"I know I came in here for something. What was it? Oh well, since I can't recall, I'll just put my shoe down the toilet."

And then, when you come back down the stairs, you're like "gee, now I remember" or:

"Oh, there's something wet on my legs. THAT must have been what I was going to do in there."

Afterward, I put her shoe in the garbage, because I was tired and didn't feel like disinfecting. Since M doesn't much get punishment - I'm pretty sure I could hang her from the ceiling and she'd just figure out how to pee upside-down or color on the light fixtures or invent some cirque de soleil moves - I just said:

"Well, I guess we'll throw your shoe away since you put in the toilet. Now it's gross."

(This was because Justin was calling me a derelict because I laughed when she showed us the shoe.... "You can't laugh," he said, "she'll just keep putting things in." So, I was trying to regain my A-U-T-H-O-R-I-T-Y. It comes in short batches lately.)

Anyway, she moaned for 5 seconds, and then asked if she could do something else atrocious.

Still, after she went to sleep I thought.... I don't want to buy a new shoe. So, I pulled it out, and washed it.

Now it's sitting on the counter.

You would think I could just put in the shoe cupboard and she would forget that I "threw" it away.

But that would only be if you forgot that E of the elephant memory lives here.

Sigh.

There goes the A-U-T-H-O-R-I-T-Y.

Mice

Today, while reading M the book: "Lilly's Big Day" by Kevin Henkes, we ran across this picture:


Says M: "Look Mom, that's E (on the right) and me (on the left).

An interesting visual of M's current understanding of the relationship between her and her sister, I think. Not that she doesn't dish it to GQ, you know. And not that he doesn't throw a train at her for good measure when she goes a little too far.

There's nothing like a sibling to keep you in line.

****

In other news:

Along with the box elder bugs who came looking for a home at our place when they cut the corn down, we have recently acquired some mice.

I am so not happy.

And I would just like to say that, unlike Cinderella - who made her mice clothes and let them sew a dress for her, I will be doing anything and everything to get rid of our guests.

I will even get a cat if I have to...

Or steal the neighbor's if that would be easier.

Because I do not appreciate the happy mouse dance. Not one bit.

This is the girl...

... that regularly calls me:

"Poopy, Poopy, Poopy, you're a meaner."

I think you all know who I'm talking about.

Today, she did not want me to go to ballet.

Especially when she heard she was having a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. That, apparently, was the clincher.

"I will come to ballet with you," she said.

"No," I said.

Insert: weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth.

"You do not have enough birthdays," I said.

And since she cannot remember actually ever having had a birthday... poor January girl... she understood.

So, tonight when I got home Justin said that the girls had told me that:

"I could come in and see them when I got home, if I wanted to."

I was sure they were asleep when I crept in.

I gave E a kiss.

I went to M's bed.

Her arms were up.

"Hi," she said, in a sweet and dreamy voice.

I told her I loved her, gave her a hug, and went to leave.

And then she said, like she really truly cared, because, I think she did, even as a 2 year old.

"Did you have fun at your ballet class, Momma?"

Not, did you have fun without me, but did you have fun because I really hope you did.

Take that meaner, meaner, pooper head.

She does love me.

Things No One Needs to Know, Especially Not You

Yesterday, I learned that they don't get icicles here because it never gets warm enough for the snow to melt, until finally it melts, and then it's gone.

This was a tragic discovery.

****

Sometimes (most times) I have absolutely NO idea what to do with M. Like when she randomly hits GQ with a train and then calls me a "Poopy, Poopy, Poopy" when I tell her that is a bad idea.

****

On Sunday we had Stake Conference. I had a brain explosion and thought it started at 11:00 when it really started at 10:00.

Is it bad that I was relieved that I didn't have to guard against M hitting GQ with a train and calling me "Poopy, Poopy, Poopy" for two hours?

Because I definitely was.

****

On Tuesday I had a mole removed from my arm, and then on the way home my entire arm fell asleep and I became a basketcase because things like this make me a basketcase - like when I get my blood taken during pregnancy, I totally have to take a sick day and watch movies all day afterward so that I can stop visualizing them pumping all my blood out of my body - and my mom told me - when I called her and told her my heart was probably going to go to sleep next, since obviously the medicine could move both ways in my body - that I needed to

"Get a grip."

Seriously.

And then, the medicine wore off and my arm came back to life, and it hurt where they cut the mole off, and I was honestly surprised, because I forgot that it would hurt, which is really intelligent of me.

****

Aren't you wishing that the kids would wake up so I would stop rambling?

****

Right now I have some whipped cream in my fridge, and nothing to put it on, so it is just going to waste.

This is also tragic.

Maybe I will just have to get a spoon and eat it by itself.