I hate serving my children rice for lunch or dinner.
I mean, seriously, let's serve them hundreds of tiny pieces of food. Like they need help spreading their meal from here to next Thursday?
Whenever I clean up after a rice meal - which, by the way, does not sweep - I think about how in Mulan the Emperor says: "A single grain of rice can tip the scale" or something stupid like that... and then I think "A single grain of rice.... "
But I don't get much beyond that, because I am not dealing with "single grains" of rice.
I am dealing with smooshed rice on their chairs, on their pants, on the table, on the floor, in the living room, on the stairs, and - in GQ's case, and sometimes M's - in their hair.
And this rice is not single. It is infinite. I will be finding it tomorrow, and the next day, until I swear never to serve rice again.
But I always do.
Because the problem is, I like rice.
Humph.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Are You Okay?
When I was 16, I became a statistic.
Driving home from school on 3rd West in Downtown SL, I ran a red light and hit a truck with my mother's car.
I remember watching the hood crunch between me and the truck, amazed that this was actually happening, just like they'd said it would in Driver's Ed. (I have never owned a blue car since... BAD LUCK.)
I remember thinking the man who drove the truck I hit deserved 5 gold stars - count 'em - for walking across the intersection and ignoring me instead of - I don't know - screaming his head off at the stupid teenager who'd ran into his truck.
I remember going into a nearby business to call my mother and inform her I had totaled her only car. The one that she let me drive to school, while she rode the bus to work.
I remember the two kind men who stopped and told me that "this is what insurance is for, you know." That I "shouldn't worry." I remember thinking that they should date my sister because they were so nice.
But most of all, I remember what happened when my brother showed up to collect me.
You see, my brother Joey is 10 years older than me.
I am the only one who calls him Joey, but I think I deserve it. Consider the evidence:
1. When I was small, Joey used to chase me around the house with a porcelain rabbit my grandmother had given me. For some reason I was deathly afraid of this rabbit, a fact he was more than willing to take advantage of at any opportunity.
2. When I turned 8 and he baptized me, he threatened to hold me under the water where I couldn't breathe. And I think we all know how afraid of water I am.
3. His dog Murphy systematically chewed up all my prized stuffed animals when I was little. This is actually documented in photos. Bunny Care Bear with missing ears? Check out the Brittany Spaniel with the fuzz balls in his teeth. Do we doubt who took the pictures?
4. He regularly told me my entire body was covered in a birth mark, and that the small mark near my belly button was my only piece of "real" skin.
I could go on... but this is not the point.
Because that day, when I became a statistic, when I watched in slow motion my mother's car crunching to pieces, I didn't cry.
I calmly got out of the car.
I calmly made a phone call to my mother.
I calmly watched the police analyze the scene around me, and I calmly informed them that it was most definitely my fault.
And then, my brother came to get me.
I was waiting in the car. Staring at the hood.
Joey slid into the passenger seat, and he said:
"Are you okay?"
Because he loved me (full-skin birthmark and all).
And that is when I started crying.
****
When I was 28, I became a statistic.
And last week, when this happened, some poor college student was sent to deliver sandwiches to our house.
I opened the door and stared at him like he was insane.
"Yes," I said.
"I have a delivery," he said.
I - of course - hadn't ordered anything. But I can read - miracles of miracles - and I saw the message from the person who'd sent us a meal that day.
Poor delivery boy. He didn't have a clue what he should do.
Because that is when I started crying.
Kind of like when a friend agreed to make phone calls for me earlier in the day.
Or when a doctor we'd just met said, "No, it's not okay."
Or when E said, "Mom, why are you squeezing me so tight."
Or when M said, "Oh, I miss him."
Or when flowers and meals showed up.
Or when a mother at ballet asked for a hug.
Or when my sister called me - despite the fact that we don't make phone calls - and left a message - because guess who didn't answer her phone.
Or when my cousin told me to stock up on disgusting vegetable drinks.
Because they loved me (full-skin birthmark, and all).
And that may make me cry,
but it also means that I'm okay.
Driving home from school on 3rd West in Downtown SL, I ran a red light and hit a truck with my mother's car.
I remember watching the hood crunch between me and the truck, amazed that this was actually happening, just like they'd said it would in Driver's Ed. (I have never owned a blue car since... BAD LUCK.)
I remember thinking the man who drove the truck I hit deserved 5 gold stars - count 'em - for walking across the intersection and ignoring me instead of - I don't know - screaming his head off at the stupid teenager who'd ran into his truck.
I remember going into a nearby business to call my mother and inform her I had totaled her only car. The one that she let me drive to school, while she rode the bus to work.
I remember the two kind men who stopped and told me that "this is what insurance is for, you know." That I "shouldn't worry." I remember thinking that they should date my sister because they were so nice.
But most of all, I remember what happened when my brother showed up to collect me.
You see, my brother Joey is 10 years older than me.
I am the only one who calls him Joey, but I think I deserve it. Consider the evidence:
1. When I was small, Joey used to chase me around the house with a porcelain rabbit my grandmother had given me. For some reason I was deathly afraid of this rabbit, a fact he was more than willing to take advantage of at any opportunity.
2. When I turned 8 and he baptized me, he threatened to hold me under the water where I couldn't breathe. And I think we all know how afraid of water I am.
3. His dog Murphy systematically chewed up all my prized stuffed animals when I was little. This is actually documented in photos. Bunny Care Bear with missing ears? Check out the Brittany Spaniel with the fuzz balls in his teeth. Do we doubt who took the pictures?
4. He regularly told me my entire body was covered in a birth mark, and that the small mark near my belly button was my only piece of "real" skin.
I could go on... but this is not the point.
Because that day, when I became a statistic, when I watched in slow motion my mother's car crunching to pieces, I didn't cry.
I calmly got out of the car.
I calmly made a phone call to my mother.
I calmly watched the police analyze the scene around me, and I calmly informed them that it was most definitely my fault.
And then, my brother came to get me.
I was waiting in the car. Staring at the hood.
Joey slid into the passenger seat, and he said:
"Are you okay?"
Because he loved me (full-skin birthmark and all).
And that is when I started crying.
****
When I was 28, I became a statistic.
And last week, when this happened, some poor college student was sent to deliver sandwiches to our house.
I opened the door and stared at him like he was insane.
"Yes," I said.
"I have a delivery," he said.
I - of course - hadn't ordered anything. But I can read - miracles of miracles - and I saw the message from the person who'd sent us a meal that day.
Poor delivery boy. He didn't have a clue what he should do.
Because that is when I started crying.
Kind of like when a friend agreed to make phone calls for me earlier in the day.
Or when a doctor we'd just met said, "No, it's not okay."
Or when E said, "Mom, why are you squeezing me so tight."
Or when M said, "Oh, I miss him."
Or when flowers and meals showed up.
Or when a mother at ballet asked for a hug.
Or when my sister called me - despite the fact that we don't make phone calls - and left a message - because guess who didn't answer her phone.
Or when my cousin told me to stock up on disgusting vegetable drinks.
Because they loved me (full-skin birthmark, and all).
And that may make me cry,
but it also means that I'm okay.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Guess What?
I actually washed the car.
I always forget how red it is. That it even is red. Did you know I have a red car? Not a grey one. Well, I apparently do.
E's comment was: "It's so sparkly."
I always forget how red it is. That it even is red. Did you know I have a red car? Not a grey one. Well, I apparently do.
E's comment was: "It's so sparkly."
Monday, February 21, 2011
That's My M!
When I told M what we named the baby, she paused and then said - with a very serious look:
"I don't like the Clark part."
Then, she said: "And anyway, I want to name it Emma."
I said: "Well, we're pretty sure it was a boy."
And she said, with a long, drawn-out drawl: "No."
I said: "Yes."
She said: "No."
I said: "Yes."
Then she said: "Silly boy."
Like: What was he thinking, being a boy? Why, I oughta.
Later, when Justin talked to her about it, she commented, with a huge sigh:
"But she's a boy."
Funny girl.
"I don't like the Clark part."
Then, she said: "And anyway, I want to name it Emma."
I said: "Well, we're pretty sure it was a boy."
And she said, with a long, drawn-out drawl: "No."
I said: "Yes."
She said: "No."
I said: "Yes."
Then she said: "Silly boy."
Like: What was he thinking, being a boy? Why, I oughta.
Later, when Justin talked to her about it, she commented, with a huge sigh:
"But she's a boy."
Funny girl.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Beginnings
Below is our family Valentine photo. I took these photos two weeks ago, and then had the kids make all the valentines last week. But, I'm sure you've noticed that I didn't actually send them. This was because there was something I wanted to send with them, but that I was pretty sure I couldn't.
I remember, when I was younger, that my mother told me there are times in your life when you turn a corner you didn't know was there, and everything is different afterward. That you don't know that the corner is coming, that it can't be changed, that it can't be taken back.
But sometimes, I've found, you know the corner is coming. You know for a long time. You're prepared for the corner by a loving Heavenly Father who knows that the corner will be a difficult one. For us, that corner came this Thursday.
When Margaret Kathleen Wood came to this world, she decided doctors were optional. The nurse checked me, saw her little head crowning, yelled "stop," and ran from the room.
I remember, when I was younger, that my mother told me there are times in your life when you turn a corner you didn't know was there, and everything is different afterward. That you don't know that the corner is coming, that it can't be changed, that it can't be taken back.
But sometimes, I've found, you know the corner is coming. You know for a long time. You're prepared for the corner by a loving Heavenly Father who knows that the corner will be a difficult one. For us, that corner came this Thursday.
Corners are not always bad. In fact, I am sure if we could understand completely, they are never truly bad, but that they are always for our good. Usually the change that comes with them is so meaningful, so huge, and so wonderful that you don't even know what you're getting yourself into.
Like the change that comes with your first baby.
When Elise Lora Wood came to us five years ago... I was still a baby myself. I remember they asked me if I wanted to hold her right after she was born and I thought... what???? I need to sit here and recover... I mean, I just had a baby come out of me... didn't you see????
But afterward, when I'd grown up a little and they handed her to me, Ellie just looked. Just looked and looked. Already she was Ellie, taking in the world completely. She always had her mouth open and her tongue out. We like to say that she was ready to talk from the beginning.
When Margaret Kathleen Wood came to this world, she decided doctors were optional. The nurse checked me, saw her little head crowning, yelled "stop," and ran from the room.
Meg and I decided to start saying "no" right from the beginning. It's been a running habit ever since.
And if you could say our Meggie slipped into this world - quickly and sneakily - you could say that Grant Quayle Wood did not. With Grant, I became one of those screaming mommies from the movies, my yells echoing down the halls. It was classic. A fact Justin used to comment on, until I told him he'd better stop commenting.
With all of my babies, I have had special dreams. I don't know whether they are perfect measures of my family, and I don't know if they will all come to be, but they are meaningful to me.
With Ellie, I had two dreams. One, where I knew she was a girl, and saw her for a moment. And another, where I had a dream of a red-head, jumping on her Daddy's lap. This, of course, was a dream of her sister.
With Meg, I had a dream of a little boy. Her brother to come next.
And if you could say our Meggie slipped into this world - quickly and sneakily - you could say that Grant Quayle Wood did not. With Grant, I became one of those screaming mommies from the movies, my yells echoing down the halls. It was classic. A fact Justin used to comment on, until I told him he'd better stop commenting.
With all of my babies, I have had special dreams. I don't know whether they are perfect measures of my family, and I don't know if they will all come to be, but they are meaningful to me.
With Ellie, I had two dreams. One, where I knew she was a girl, and saw her for a moment. And another, where I had a dream of a red-head, jumping on her Daddy's lap. This, of course, was a dream of her sister.
With Meg, I had a dream of a little boy. Her brother to come next.
And with Grant, I had several dreams. A dream of a little boy in another room, that I couldn't see, but knew was there. A dream of a little boy lined up next to his siblings: 1, 2, 3, 4. Then, a last dream, just of the baby himself. Distinctly brown-eyed, arms and legs lifted, almost like Baby Moses looks in The Prince of Egypt as he is placed into his basket and allowed to slip away into the river, away from his mother, and onto the life he must live.
Last October, I knew I was pregnant almost immediately by the fact that I had another dream, about another baby. About the 5th.
But before that, of course, before that other precious child, the little boy I'd dreamed of with Grant needed to come.
This particular pregnancy was always different from the others. Meggie called the baby "Ennis," a word she made up, but that I found was a real name, its male version meaning: "The Only Choice." It felt fitting. I had known this pregnancy needed to happen when it did. I had actually changed an apointment because the timing had felt that it needed to be just so. That the timing had needed to be just now. The only choice.
This past Thursday, at our 20 week ultrasound, this truth was confirmed. And on Friday, Justin and I went to the hospital to deliver our little one's body. All went well, and we were blessed to wrap a little blanket we'd made about him, and to let him know that we loved him.
Clark Ennis Wood was born at 8:20 pm on Friday, February 18th, 2011. I was glad that he came to us when Justin and I were alone together. And while we could not see him as he will one day be, we saw his little hand, and his perfect little spine, and loved him as we'd loved the others when they came to us as well.
Full of promise, full of eternal lfie.
Sitting in my room, I was glad to be in a place where nurses would leave our room to enter others and place squawking, screaming babes into the arms of their parents. Babes with rolls of fat, and rosy cheeks, and sweet-smelling heads. Babes that will keep their mothers and fathers awake for weeks, insist on wearing fully pink outfits - whether it looks like they're from the 80's or not, eat gum out of garbage cans, and become insanely excited when anything remotely similar to basketball comes on T.V.
Last October, I knew I was pregnant almost immediately by the fact that I had another dream, about another baby. About the 5th.
But before that, of course, before that other precious child, the little boy I'd dreamed of with Grant needed to come.
This particular pregnancy was always different from the others. Meggie called the baby "Ennis," a word she made up, but that I found was a real name, its male version meaning: "The Only Choice." It felt fitting. I had known this pregnancy needed to happen when it did. I had actually changed an apointment because the timing had felt that it needed to be just so. That the timing had needed to be just now. The only choice.
I had known that there was certainly a plan for this child.
And by mid-January, our family began to realize -slowly and gently - what exactly this plan would be. That this little one, with his distinctive brown eyes, would not be coming to join our family here on Earth right now.
This past Thursday, at our 20 week ultrasound, this truth was confirmed. And on Friday, Justin and I went to the hospital to deliver our little one's body. All went well, and we were blessed to wrap a little blanket we'd made about him, and to let him know that we loved him.
Clark Ennis Wood was born at 8:20 pm on Friday, February 18th, 2011. I was glad that he came to us when Justin and I were alone together. And while we could not see him as he will one day be, we saw his little hand, and his perfect little spine, and loved him as we'd loved the others when they came to us as well.
Full of promise, full of eternal lfie.
Sitting in my room, I was glad to be in a place where nurses would leave our room to enter others and place squawking, screaming babes into the arms of their parents. Babes with rolls of fat, and rosy cheeks, and sweet-smelling heads. Babes that will keep their mothers and fathers awake for weeks, insist on wearing fully pink outfits - whether it looks like they're from the 80's or not, eat gum out of garbage cans, and become insanely excited when anything remotely similar to basketball comes on T.V.
For life is beautiful. So very beautiful.
And families - as I know for certain - are together forever.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Watch Out
Today while Justin and I were involved in an emotionally charged "serious" conversation with someone outside our family, we all turned around to find that M was mooning us.
It is a full moon today, you know.
She further commented:
"I need to pull up my pants so she can't see my bum, huh?"
I think we all appreciated the lightening moment she gave us. Crazy little M.
(While she did this, E read her book in the corner... hello Jamie Robyn, and GQ licked the mirror in the room. Quite the trio.)
It is a full moon today, you know.
She further commented:
"I need to pull up my pants so she can't see my bum, huh?"
I think we all appreciated the lightening moment she gave us. Crazy little M.
(While she did this, E read her book in the corner... hello Jamie Robyn, and GQ licked the mirror in the room. Quite the trio.)
Monday, February 14, 2011
Sundry Photos
It's a bird, it's a plane....
It's Baryshnikov!!!
Don't tell me that you are not planning on dressing your son like this next Sunday. I am telling you, it is all the rage.
He's still cute, even with his sweatshirt unzipped. GQ, I mean, not Baryshnikov.
The past two years I have thrown a "Pretty Pink Party," but didn't feel like inviting a million people this year... so we just invited two of E's friends and their families.
E was SURE that we were doing something grand for Valentine's, and even practiced what outfit she was going to wear last week... so I knew I had to think up something.
M spent most of the party getting the younger participants to play in the toilet and unwind toilet paper rolls.
Heaven help me.
Grandma Paula was kind enough to get all our pictures taken over Christmas.
GQ threw a major fit during the greater part of the picture festivities.
I'll spare you the picture of Justin and me. By then I had turned into a full-on Andersen and apparently couldn't smile to save my life.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Once Upon a Time...
Once Upon a Time, I bought a package of Miniature Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to make some Chocolate Peanut Butter Cupcakes.
Then, I ate too many of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups before I could make the Chocolate Peanut Butter Cupcakes...
So, now I cannot make them.
the end
*****
Once Upon a Time, GQ ate three sandwiches and 6 graham crackers for dinner.
The next day, at Church, all of this exploded out of him, his diaper, and his clothes.
So, GQ went to the rest of Church wearing a sweatshirt and M's tights.
When his sweatshirt unzipped, he looked just like Baryshnikov.
the end
*****
Once Upon a Time, E sat in the tubby and intoned:
"I own almost everything. I own almost everything. I own almost everything."
Then, she asked M to give her something.
the end.
Then, I ate too many of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups before I could make the Chocolate Peanut Butter Cupcakes...
So, now I cannot make them.
the end
*****
Once Upon a Time, GQ ate three sandwiches and 6 graham crackers for dinner.
The next day, at Church, all of this exploded out of him, his diaper, and his clothes.
So, GQ went to the rest of Church wearing a sweatshirt and M's tights.
When his sweatshirt unzipped, he looked just like Baryshnikov.
the end
*****
Once Upon a Time, E sat in the tubby and intoned:
"I own almost everything. I own almost everything. I own almost everything."
Then, she asked M to give her something.
the end.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Assumption
This morning, when I went to the bathroom and found that someone had - plug your ears if you don't like potty talk - wiped their poop on the wall by the toilet paper, I made an assumption.
I walked out of the bathroom and said:
"Guess who wiped their poop on the wall by the toilet?"
And then, Justin made an assumption.
I am sure you know what the red-headed assumption was.
After all, this is the girl who has peeled wallpaper off of at least four different places in the bathroom, making it reasonable to assume that by the time 5 more years pass I will not be getting my deposit back on this house, or that my mom is going to have to come out here and wallpaper the room herself.
I said to Justin:
"Why would a person do that?"
He said:
"Because the person is M."
Later, when M and E woke up, I said to M: "M, did you wipe your poop on the bathroom wall."
And while M is easily prone to lying/sneaking/tricking - like the other day when she didn't eat her dinner and then snuck upstairs and shoved handfuls of chocolate into her mouth - she said:
"No. I didn't do that."
And it was in her "true" voice.
So, I asked E if she did it. Ding, ding, ding, we've got a winner.
Seriously, you're five and you did it?
"I didn't know I wasn't supposed to," she said.
Hmmmmm.
Just shows you what assumptions will do to you.
Monday, February 7, 2011
For Grandma
When Grandma sent Halloween shirts I was supposed to take pictures and I
F - A - I - L - E - D!!!!
So, here are the Valentine's photos.
Better early than never!
There's got to be one good one of them all in there, right?
F - A - I - L - E - D!!!!
So, here are the Valentine's photos.
Better early than never!
There's got to be one good one of them all in there, right?Saturday, February 5, 2011
About our car
My car is very dirty.
On the inside, it's relatively good. Considering the three kids and all. On the outside - not so much.
When we lived in Utah, my mother would periodically come to her wits' end and wash the dang thing for us. By golly.
Since we moved to Iowa - I have washed it once.
And, I consider that an accomplishment.
On Sunday's we used to park right next to the front door. Now that we have Church second, we park further back. Someone from the other ward parks in our spot.
They have a van like ours.
I said to Justin: "Look, it's us. We're still parked there."
Justin said to me: "Um, no. That car is clean."
He was right.
****
On Thursday, I had to pick Justin up from school at 8:15 pm. Busses were not running, and certainly not that late.
While our storm had come and gone, I've found that snow/ice removal is a little different here. As in, we plowed once, have fun while you wait for Spring.
I pulled off the road to pick up Justin, called him, and said: "We're here, but I make no guarantee that we can get out again."
And I was right.
We were stuck.
And so - I say - to the kind men - three of them - who put their hands to the back of my grubby, dirty car and pushed us out.
Thank you.
I'm sure you had to wash your hands a million times afterward.
But we really appreciate it.
****
Earlier that day, I also had to take Justin to school because the busses were not running.
We saw a man waiting at the bus stop, and offered him a ride.
Question: What is worse than sitting in negative 12 weather waiting for a bus that will not come?
Answer: Riding in the back of a dirty van with 3 children.
He did not take us up on our offer.
And consequently missed out on listening to GQ scream the whole way there.
Don't you feel his pain?
On the inside, it's relatively good. Considering the three kids and all. On the outside - not so much.
When we lived in Utah, my mother would periodically come to her wits' end and wash the dang thing for us. By golly.
Since we moved to Iowa - I have washed it once.
And, I consider that an accomplishment.
On Sunday's we used to park right next to the front door. Now that we have Church second, we park further back. Someone from the other ward parks in our spot.
They have a van like ours.
I said to Justin: "Look, it's us. We're still parked there."
Justin said to me: "Um, no. That car is clean."
He was right.
****
On Thursday, I had to pick Justin up from school at 8:15 pm. Busses were not running, and certainly not that late.
While our storm had come and gone, I've found that snow/ice removal is a little different here. As in, we plowed once, have fun while you wait for Spring.
I pulled off the road to pick up Justin, called him, and said: "We're here, but I make no guarantee that we can get out again."
And I was right.
We were stuck.
And so - I say - to the kind men - three of them - who put their hands to the back of my grubby, dirty car and pushed us out.
Thank you.
I'm sure you had to wash your hands a million times afterward.
But we really appreciate it.
****
Earlier that day, I also had to take Justin to school because the busses were not running.
We saw a man waiting at the bus stop, and offered him a ride.
Question: What is worse than sitting in negative 12 weather waiting for a bus that will not come?
Answer: Riding in the back of a dirty van with 3 children.
He did not take us up on our offer.
And consequently missed out on listening to GQ scream the whole way there.
Don't you feel his pain?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I finally remembered:
I always forget to say that GQ did finally get some teeth.
Two, on the bottom, in the front, right when he turned 18 months old.
The second one was crooked.
He is now getting the top two, and one molar... randomly.
Justin's joke was:
"I hope this isn't a sign of his spiritual progress: Tardy and crooked."
Justin definitely enjoys a cheesy joke.
***
In other GQ news, since GQ is such a whiner lately...
Seriously, a HUGE whiner.
... I decided we might as well take his binky away. At least now he has a reason to be howling.
And I don't have to keep track of them anymore.
Oh so interesting...
Yesterday, I found 7 shirts for $21, and 4 of them were sweaters. My closet was very excited, because it was feeling a little worn out.
Yesterday, I made a new recipe for bean burgers, and it was disgusting. No one ate it. These are the moments that make me hate cooking dinner. What a waste of time.
Every night, M and E claim that they are going to throw up. We even keep a bucket in their room to keep them from complaining. But last night, GQ actually did throw up. Of course, he did not complain about it, we just found it in the morning.
Everything is closed for the snowstorm. Busses, schools. I look outside and feel disappointed. It doesn't look like a blizzard. It's not even that pretty. The tress have nothing on them. But I guess it is more dangerous to drive in snow here because it is more like ice than in Utah. I miss fluffy beautiful snow. If it's going to snow, can't it be awe-inspiring, instead of like sideways rain missiles?
Yesterday, I made a new recipe for bean burgers, and it was disgusting. No one ate it. These are the moments that make me hate cooking dinner. What a waste of time.
Every night, M and E claim that they are going to throw up. We even keep a bucket in their room to keep them from complaining. But last night, GQ actually did throw up. Of course, he did not complain about it, we just found it in the morning.
Everything is closed for the snowstorm. Busses, schools. I look outside and feel disappointed. It doesn't look like a blizzard. It's not even that pretty. The tress have nothing on them. But I guess it is more dangerous to drive in snow here because it is more like ice than in Utah. I miss fluffy beautiful snow. If it's going to snow, can't it be awe-inspiring, instead of like sideways rain missiles?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)