Eyebrows, really?

I have been looking for the picture that should really go with this post, but with my organizational skills for pictures, my great great grandchildren may never find it. All beside the point. For as long as I can remember, which is really not that far, Friday night would consist of the family (The Rocket Scientist, Sea Monkeys and me) going out for dinner and then to Home Depot or Lowes. It didn't matter where we lived, we would always do this. In fact, I think one of my son's first words was "Home Depot." For the longest time we could not drive past one without him in full tears over not going in.

If you have small children or have had small children, you know how important it is for them to get enough sleep. Well, it's Friday night and it is date night, even if it is with our four very small children. It is a little late to still be out and wandering around Home Depot, but we are. The First Child and the Wild Child are sharing one of those race car carts. The Little Jamaican and my Son are sharing another. Now mind you, the the First Child and the Wild Child were tired and probably without naps as we were living in a small apartment waiting for our home to be completed. Being that they were 2 and 3, they really should have had a nap to be up so late. Their favorite thing to do then was to get "colors." (You know, paint swatches.) Well, they were each allowed one of their choosing. At some point, there was a disagreement about their "colors" and something to do with seat belts or something. The Wild Child decides that she is so angry with the First Child that reaches out grabs the First Child's eyebrows and tries to pinch/gouge them off. Why her eyebrows were so offensive at this point, I don't know, but that was the Wild Child's point of attack. It's not like the First Child even has big eyebrows. My dear friend, Shades of Blonde finds this as humorous as I did. Maybe more. We still laugh about it more than 4 years later. "Oooooo, those eyebrows are ticking me off!"

The Wild Child teaches her sister to ride a bike

Up the hill they go! and down the hill the Little Jamaican goes.
So the Wild Child decided that it was time for the Little Jamaican to learn to ride a bike. So the Wild Child would push her up the hill, turn her around and then scream what to do next as the Little Jamaican barrelled down the hill till she could hit our front lawn to slow her down. The Wild Child would try to convince her to put her feet on the pedals, but she wasn't having it. Thank goodness for helmets!!!

No lack of 'tude

My sweet, beautiful Wild Child will never make it as a celebrity. Watch what I mean.

I fear she would kill the first paparazzi brave enough to take her picture.

Confessions

So at what age are you too old to "doodle?" You know little hearts all over the piece of paper sitting next to the phone or the front of the phone book.? I still doodle all over everything like a teenage girl. Hearts, stars, "I love the Rocket Scientist." Some how I still get a thrill out of writing, "Karen loves the Rocket Scientist" all over everything. It is true. I adore the man as much and more as the day I married him. Still I wonder, will it be socially acceptable to write these things in the steam on the shower door when I'm eighty?

7 years old this month

How does this happen? I have asked her to stop. She tells me she can't. She insists on growing up. In fact she's been bent on it since the day she was born. She was wide awake from the beginning, always wanting to learn and grow as fast as she can. That hasn't changed a bit. I can still remember rocking her one night when she was about 6 months old. I started crying uncontrollably because I realized she was going to grow up. She wouldn't always be a baby. And now, here she is already 7 years old. Happy Birthday, my sweet First Child. I love you.

I took THEM to the mall.

Today I took the Sea Monkeys to the mall. We met some friends there. We had a fairly uneventful lunch. That is always a good sign. We strike a deal with my friends teenage daughter and her friend. It works like this. The teens shop while we feed the young ones. When the young ones finish eating we take them to the play area in the mall. My friend then calls her teen and friend on her mobile phone. We give the teens money to go buy a drink for themselves from the food court. When they get back, they watch the kids in the play area while my friend and I shop. Pretty good arrangement huh? The best part is, my kids burned off a ton of energy today. I bribe my kids with treats if they behave for the teens, while I shop. Worked like a charm. So when it's time to go, I take them to Mrs. Fields where they can pick out a cookie each. This is almost too much for them. They are bouncing off the walls in anticipation. Changing their choice every two seconds. I am just praying we make it back to the food court with their treat before a melt down happens. The really cute woman helping us at Mrs. Fields tells me that when she had to take her kids to the mall when they were little, she use to call it, "getting malled." I think I may have to use that, because by the time we make it to the car with exhausted kids, now full of sugar, that is pretty much what it feel like. Over all, I'd do it again.

Not that I'm complaining

Or maybe I am. It is only 9 AM and my Little Jamaican has covered about two dozen toys in liquid soap, another child (who I won't identify out of respect for her weak bladder) informs me that she needs a shower and her bedding changed this morning. My darling son is running around my house with my car keys for the 3rd time today. Not that this is a huge problem, just that when it is time to go, where exactly will my car keys be? Then, of course, their is the informer child of the day who is running around telling me these things repeatedly, like I could forget.

What would Jesus do?

Monday night is a source of much blogging material. Being that it is Family Night at our house with four small children, there is always something interesting. The youngest insists she wants to give the lesson. Being a three year old, she has some unique views. I am actually anxious to hear what she has to say. Her turn comes to give the lesson and she says, "Jesus doesn't want us to flush people down the toilet." She then began to list what was OK to "flush down the toilet." She had all her bases covered. My Littlest Jamaican, I couldn't agree more.

Trying to be safety minded.

It all started when I got an e-mail from my cousin talking about online predators and how she attended a class on them by an FBI agent. So, in effort to help protect my family from predators I went through and changed all the names out to nicknames. Well, apparently, my other half is not impressed with being "Honey." He claims that on the other blogs I read, the men have masculine names, like: Marlboro Man or Cotton Husband. So, in order to please the love of my life, I will now refer to him as "The Rocket Scientist." I can tell this will be a source of endless entertainment to me.

What else? Yes, something the Wild Child said

Yesterday, or maybe it was the day before that, the Wild Child stuffs a Hula-hoop up her Dad's shirt. Mind you stretching a perfectly good t-shirt as she made him wider than the door way, the Hula-hoop pushing the sides of his shirt out of shape. She then proceeds to tell him, "You need to wear this. It makes you more relateable." Where does she get this stuff?

The Wild Child Rationalizes

Never ask a child where they want to live if you really don't want to know the answer. They will tell you. I have not yet heard Disneyland, but that's because we have as yet to go. When we first moved North, The Wild Child would tell us she wanted to go back to Mexico where it was warm. Who could blame her with all the snow that Northern Utah got this past winter. (She has never lived South of the border.) Now that it is finally warm here, I asked her again where she wanted to live. Listen for yourself:

I would like to add...she has lived in Arizona, never in San Diego. In fact, she has only been to San Diego once and she was not even walking yet.

Can we go swimming?

Fortunate for me, this means we pull out the wading pool and I get to be entertained for a few hours while getting a healthy dose of vitamin D.

Tagged!

1. Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.



7 random facts about me:

1. I love the rain.
2. I love to hear kids say, "Nana nana boo boo." and then stick their tongues out.
3. My wedding day was the worst day of my life. (Never had a day as bad since!) I got my Honey out of it, so it was worth it.
4. I dreamed of being an astronaut or a fighter pilot as a child.
5. I am still looking for the town I will call home.
6. I love the way the heat in the summer of Phoenix makes you chill when you first walk into it.
7. Love apples, hate apple juice. Love orange juice, hate oranges.

I was tagged by Wendy. I don't have seven people to tag yet. So no pressure, Nicole, Emily, Krista, Laura, Stacy and Susan.

Is this me? Who are you?

You Are An ENFP

The Inspirer You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends. You are also unconventional, irreverent, and unimpressed by authority and rules. Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives. You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're quite the storyteller! In love, you are quite the charmer. And you are definitely willing to risk your heart. You often don't follow through with your flirting or professed feelings. And you do break a lot of hearts. At work, you are driven but not a workaholic. You just always seem to enjoy what you do. You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist. How you see yourself: compassionate, unselfish, and understanding When other people don't get you, they see you as: gushy, emotional, and unfocused

What's" Your Personality Type?

Public Service Announcement.......Crack Kills

It is finally getting warm here!! Yeah!!! So, we decided it was time to clean-up the outdoor furniture. Some of us can't keep our pants up, others are mad about getting wet and other's really enjoying making the wet ones mad.

Happy Father's Day

My youngest whipper-snapper today, got up and wished her dad, "Happy Fathertines Day." This a step in the right direction. She made her dad a Father's Day card at day camp last week. She told me it was for Valentines Day and another time it was for his birthday and also once she told me it was for "Happy Christmas." They out grow that so fast. I hope she does that a while longer.

Speaking of Fathers, I, of course am thinking of mine. He is a great man for many reasons. Today, though it may seem insignificant to most, but not me, I am thankful for his sense of humor. The way he can belly laugh at the same joke for weeks and find humor in the absurd. Without his example to teach me this skill, I would have lost all hope and a great deal of happiness many years ago. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you and thank you!

The many moods of the Wild Child

This one is like a box of chocolates! You never know what you are going to get or how much you are going to enjoy it.

Nerves, they get us all.

Today, my sweet son was to recite the 2nd Article of Faith in Primary. He had practiced it over and over. He could say it very well. So today when he got up to recite it, he got really nervous and said a prayer in instead, blessing the food and asking to sleep well.

Most heard phrase in the past two weeks...

"Can we do something fun?" All I have to say about that is, "Be my guest. Entertain yourselves!"
This of course does not work. First because the I have to explain what a guest is and then what "Be my guest" means. Then, if that isn't enough, I have to explain what entertain means. By the time I am finished doing all that, I wish I had just said, "yes" and taken them to the park.