Ladies' Man

CJ has always enjoyed flirting. He's good at it, too. REALLY good. I"m pretty sure I'm in really big trouble when he gets older. He's been known to offer up written marriage proposals to two different girls within the same hour. Perhaps he's still confused about the Latter-Day Saint church's stand against plural marriage? Or maybe he's just keeping his options opened? Who knows? This is CJ we're talking about here.

A few months ago, a new young couple happened to move into our ward. They're sweet and fun and CJ noticed that they (ok, he's really focused mostly on the cute wife) just happen to both be rather aesthetically pleasing. The wife has long flowing hair, a flair for fashion, and a beautiful smile. All of these are things CJ ALWAYS notices.

To say that CJ has flirted with her a bit would be being polite. The kid has thrown himself at her repeatedly. Don't worry. She's been loyal to her husband despite his best efforts. He came home and told me he loved her, and the following conversation ensued:
Me: CJ, you should probably know that Kayla is married.
CJ: What?! She can't be.
Me: Yes, it's true.
CJ: (without skipping a beat) Well, how much does she really like her husband?
Me: (stunned that my kid is trying to become a seven year old home wrecker) A LOT!

A few Sundays later, Kayla wore her hair up in a loose bun. CJ must have taken notice of it because the following Sunday she wore it down and he said "Kayla, I'm so glad you've let down your golden hair". (I think he may have watched "Tangled" a few times to many.)

She also has a sense of style he must like because he had this conversation with her as well:
CJ: I like your shirt.
Kayla: Why thank you, CJ.
CJ: (after waiting a few seconds) Aren't you gonna' say you like my shirt?!?

Finally Kayla introduced him to her husband (who she really does like, by the way). He was kind and smiled at him and talked to him. I asked him later what he thought of Josh (the husband)
Me: So, did you meet Josh?
CJ: (curtly) Yes.
Me: Well, what did you think?
CJ: (putting on a stiff upper lip) Yeah. I guess. (Walks away quietly).

What I've failed to mention is that CJ used to have a little crush on a girl his own age. Shocking, I know. We'll call her R. She's the cutest thing this side of the Mississippi, and I could take her home in my pocket in a second. While she doesn't love him back, I think she did kind of like the attention. She came and talked to me at a church function last night, and the conversation had me rolling with laughter.
R: Sister SuperMom?
Me: Hi, R. How are you?
R: I have to tell you something about CJ.
Me: Ok. What's up?
R: He says he doesn't like that Kayla is married.
Me: Yes, I know. He's so silly.
R: I think he loves her.
Me: Really?
R: (crosses her arms and looks sternly at me) He used to love ME. (walks off grumpily)
It was truly all I could do to stifle my laughter.

So there you have it. CJ isn't even eight years old yet, and he's already breaking one of God's top ten rules by scoping out another man's wife. Nice. How is it possible for a kid his age to be such a ladies' man??

Everything I Never Knew I Wanted

I remember as a little girl sitting with my cousins, Dawn and Christina, and we'd pretend and pretend and pretend about what life was going to be when we grew up. We played Barbie, hide and seek, and a whole host of other things. With all of that, the game that stands out most in my mind was playing house in their basement. It seems like we played house down there for hours on end. We imagined all sorts of scenarios. I think I even remember pulling out Olivia Newton John records and dancing our cute little hearts out to "Let's Get Physical" and then the Madonna record that had our other favorite song, "Material Girl". We were fully prepared to grow up and be famous dancers or rock stars...or something. Dawn and Christina had been in some dance classes, so they even had all the fancy outfits to dance in with tons of sequins. I think I might even remember some kind of blue head band thing with a rather large feather sticking out of it. At any rate, suffice it to say we were really good at pretending together.

As we grew up, our "when I grow up" dreams changed a little. We were too big to pretend anymore, and I guess it wasn't something we talked about much, so I can't say I know for sure what they wanted to be "when they grew up". I can say that I thought I knew exactly what I wished to become.

I knew I loved the theater. I had a high school drama coach who got theater into my blood, and there was no turning back. I especially loved technical theater, but I really enjoyed acting too. (Just, please for the love of all that's good in the world, do NOT ask me to sing). I wanted to work somewhere in show business, I thought. I didn't particularly care where. I spent some time studying technical theater in college and the business end of it really sucked the fun right out, so I knew I wanted to do something different when I grew up and save theater as a fun hobby.

Ultimately, I got my associates degree in interpersonal communications and my bachelor in Social Work, but have spent the majority of my time teaching pre-school or doing autism therapy. As I got older and busier with "real life", I guess I stopped thinking about what I wanted to be when I grow up. It didn't really occur to me until today that I have everything I never knew I wanted.

I'm not that famous theater person I thought I'd be. I don't drive a fancy car and have lovely jewelry. I don't know one single famous person that I can name drop for you. Not one. To suggest that my wardrobe is humble would be an understatement. I only have about two (maybe three) pairs of shoes and one less than stellar purse. There is nothing fancy about my home nor anything spectacular about my yard. My nails aren't well manicured, and my hair spends the majority of the time up in a pony tail. If it's ever left down, it likely has some strange sticky substance in it lovingly placed there by one of my five children. My make-up collection consists of some lip gloss, eye liner, and mascara. I do have some lipstick that I reserve for "special occasions". I don't have the title of director, doctor, therapist, or Nobel prize winner. My title is just three little letters that you can spell the same way backwards and forward. Mom. Quite honestly, I live a rather simple life that really isn't likely much to talk about in the eyes of others.

Somehow, though, I realized today that I have everything I could ever wish for. If I found a star to wish upon right this very moment, I'd have stand in silence as there isn't a thing I can imagine that I am without. Instead of all the fancy stuff I thought I wanted in my youth, I have gifts that can't be purchased anywhere else in the world. They are the finest gifts of all.

I have sticky finger prints on almost every window in the house. I have french fries on the floor of my van and stickers carefully placed on my van window after many harrowing pediatrician visits. I have bags under my eyes from more sleepless nights spent consoling a crying baby than I can count. I have broken finger nails and dishpan hands from washing dish after dish after dish full of chicken nugget dip and barely touched vegetables. I have toothpaste smears all over my bathroom sink each night after five little mouths have been not so carefully brushed with "bubble mint" Buzz Lightyear toothpaste. I have boogers crusted on my shoulders where a child laid his head for reassurance after falling and scraping his knee or having had his heart broken by a friend. I have little tiny hand prints all over my butt from giant spirits who are trapped in tiny little bodies running up and hugging me forgetting they'd just eaten ice cream...or yogurt...or a chocolate bar...or pudding...or, well you get the idea. I have a mountain of laundry that I doubt I'll ever really find the bottom of. That mountain is loaded with stains that will likely never come out but represent hours of laughing and giggling as little people played chase and constantly fell on the grass staining their knees or chocolate smears all down the front of a beloved shirt that happened to be worn at the same time we spontaneously decided we needed chocolate sundaes. I have toys strewn from one end of the house to the other, each representing a silly game or even perhaps a game of make believe just as I used to play with my cousins. I have stacks of first grade homework and the non-stop chatter of a fifth grader who just has to tell me all the latest cafeteria gossip right now or he's just going to burst. Instead of fine art gallery art, I have a lovely collection of hand-drawn rainbows and misproportioned drawings of "me" lovingly hung on the refrigerator. I have a plastic sippy cup on my counter with the lid removed so that the bouquet of freshly picked dandilions will have just the right vase to sit in as they grace my counter top.

The list could go on and on because, really, I have it all. My children know they are loved, even though they sometimes question it when some "completely unfair" rule is enforced. (I only wish they could know how much more it pains me to enforce rules than it hurts them to have a consequence inflicted). I have children who know how to laugh, how to pray, and how to love. I have taught them who God is. I have shown them that they can be anything they want to be. I have a husband who loves me more than words can say and sacrifices his whole self for our family on an almost daily basis. Indeed, I would contend that I am the richest woman in the world.

My life today is certainly not the picture of what I thought it would be all those years ago when I would play with Dawn and Christina and we would pretend what we would be when we grew up. It's not even the picture of what I thought it would be when I was in high school and was sure I had the world all figured out. I don't think it's even quite what I thought it would be the day I knelt across the alter and married the man of my dreams. It's better than all of those things.

Today, as Mother's Day comes to a close and my children cry because they're just sure they don't need to go to bed and they just can't bear to sleep without a certain beloved toy or are missing a favorite tv show, I am grateful beyond measure for it all. I can honestly say that I now have everything I never knew I wanted.

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like That

I know a lot of my readers (I say that is if I think I have many readers, ha!) come to this blog to read about my life and feel better about their own. I'd say that's fair considering that my life is truly Grand Central Station all the time. That, and the antics that happen in our house are funny. I'm actually grateful for the fact that I can look at life and just laugh at the way it turns out sometimes. In fact, even as we speak, Liam is roaming the house terrorizing toilets completely in the nude. Yep. It's true. I imagine you're wondering why I'm sitting here blogging while he wanders naked, right? Well that's a fair question and the answer if very simple: I'm all out of duct tape. That's right. All out. It's gone. Kaput! Without duct tape, there is really no way of keeping his diaper on. For that matter, there isn't much hope of keeping his pants on either.

Anyway, Liam's current obsession with nudity isn't the purpose of this fantastic entry. The main purpose is to once again remind others that life could be worse. Really. It could. In the last 24 hours, I have experienced all of the following incidents. You'll note that most of them were brought on by Liam, but all of my fine young heathens angels had their fair share of creative contributions. Here you go. The list of events that represent my life in the last 24 hours is as follows:

1. One 1-pound unopened box of elbow macaroni opened and dumped over the entire kitchen.
2. Two fully loaded stinky diapers emptied and smeared anywhere that certain naughty little fingers could reach.
3. Five hotdogs devoured and promptly exploded into the above-mentioned diapers.
4. The removal of a two year old from my dishwasher occurred well over fifteen dozen times.
5. Rachel stole Drezden's toy. CJ stole Aiden's remote. Liam stole Drezden's glasses. Liam stole everyone's everything. Drezden pulled Rachel's Barbie's hair. ( I realize those are all several different things, but I counted them as one thing because that helps make my list shorter and minimizes how awful it all sounds on paper.)
6. The crib was rendered useless as a containment device for a two year old.
7. Three beds were wet...and not with water.
8. One bathtub's contents was systematically emptied onto an upstairs bathroom floor.
9. A fence gate was left open leaving opportunity for the dog to go wandering throughout the neighborhood.
10. It was discovered that chairs could be moved and used to climb up and reach just about anything, which led to the discovery that there really is no "safe place" for anything we don't want little people to get hold of.
11. Death defying leaps from crib rails were made and survived...barely.
12. Multiple walls were decorated with important creative mediums such as crayons, pencils, markers, sidewalk chalk, and poop. What? I already mentioned the poop? Well, it's disgusting enough that it deserves at least two mentions.
13. At least two plates were thrown and broken. They were the ones that are supposed to be "smash proof". Maybe that company should meet my kids before they make promises like that.
14. Jellybeans were removed from the hair and ears of one child, and just from the hair of another one.
15. Three lost wii remotes were found and promptly lost again.
16. Dinners were made and rejected followed by tears of hunger pains because "there's nothin' to eat in the whole house".
17. After an entire school day and dance practice, it was pointed out that one of the small humans was wearing her shirt backwards.
18. Five bags of trash were taken to the trash can...and it wasn't even a deep cleaning day.
19. An entire package of oreos was mysteriously consumed, but no "not me" is the only one fessing up to eating it.
20. Naps were neglected in exchange for hours of whining, crying, and systematically destroying.

If, at any point, you read this list and things weren't spelled out clearly enough feel free to let me know. I'm happy to expound. In the meantime, I'll be waiting for the laundry fairies to come, the personal chef to start cooking and organizing the kitchen, and for calgon to take me away.

Super Terrific Yard Sale Bargain

I have been eying this set at Target for YEARS now. Years!!!! I just could never bring myself to spend $120 plus the time to assemble it. Then there is the issue of buying the food and accessories for it. Still, I have wanted this thing oh so badly for may, many, MANY months now.

Our subdivision has two set weekends a year for people to have their yard sales. It's completely crazy and wild, but the bargains are worth it. I usually will drive through, but not stop for much. I was driving by one today and there it was. It was in all its glory. I HAD to stop and get out immediately to look more closely at it.

The price tag? $35. Surely something was wrong with it. Scratches, dings, dents? Anything. Nope! It didn't even have a finger print on it. To top it off, it had food and accessories for it. There is an oven mit, crazy utensils and so much more. Could it be true? Could the gods really be looking down on me with smiles and allowing me to get something for my kids that I've always wanted for them? Really??!!?

I asked the seller about it and she told me her granddaughter had gotten it this past Christmas, but didn't want it. She never even touched it. Are you kidding me?!?!? THIS is a work of art. It was so new that it still had all the stickers on each piece of wood that tell where each piece went. Literally, this fine toy had never even been touched by little hands.

I can't imagine the child who complained that she didn't want it, but I must say I'm oh so grateful. There is no way I could have gotten this for my kids with all the stuff to come with it at this price. As a bonus, it's even already assembled. All four of my youngest kids are so excited. They've been cooking, mixing, stirring, eating, selling, concocting and anything else you can imagine four young children can do with a brand spanking new kitchen set.

My house is a mess and there are dishes and laundry to do, but I don't mind one bit. Tonight I will sleep like a baby. Why? I'll be resting well knowing that I, AimeeTheSuperMom, scored a super terrific yard sale bargain.

More Than Just Monkeying Around

After a whole lot of excitement, a ridiculous amount of practice, and plenty of stage make-up, Aiden finally had his play last night. He worked so hard to prepare for the audition that I thought he was going for the role of Aladdin. Nope. The bad dude? Nope. Princess Jasmine? (I prayed he'd say no to that one). Nope. What then? The monkey. My kid worked his tail off to earn the part of Aladdin's monkey side-kick named Alakazaam.

The role itself required him to learn a total of about five lines, but had him on stage the whole time. Really, I think that was the genius behind his choice. He knew he could be in front of the audience a ton without having to remember much. And, let's be honest. Turning himself into a monkey isn't exactly a huge stretch.

What I didn't know was just how good he was. Oh. My. Gosh! The kid actually had some talent. Stranger after stranger told me how he'd stolen the show. He took the role of monkey and comic relief and brought that silly character to life. The whole play was very well-done, especially considering that they were fourth and fifth graders.

Aiden got to take pictures with dozens of adoring little fans who thought "the monkey was the funniest", sign autographs, and be Mr. Popularity at the local DQ that we all went to after the show. It's safe to say his head is a bit larger than it was yesterday and he is certainly riding a high. To be fair, though, he really did earn it. Well done, Aiden. And to think I thought he was just monkeying around all this time!

Clearly It Was a Monday

Remember back in the day when we were in school when the big joke was about giving someone a swirly? I never got one, but playground lore held that a swirly happened when someone stuck your head into the toilet and then flushed making the water swirl around you. Somehow I struck it lucky enough that my children haven't ever heard of such a thing. Can you just imagine CJ with the image of a swirly in his mind?? The poor cat!!

Liam decided to give another kind of swirly today. He got pretty gross after his breakfast (let's be honest, people. When is he not gross??), so I opted to throw him in the tub with Rachel and Drezden. Drezden had an allergic reaction to the diapers I bought him, so I knew the water would do him good.

After they got out, Liam was running around naked while I worked on switching laundry and getting his clothes ready. I let Drezden run around in the buff to air out his sore hiney. I came downstairs to discover Liam fiddling around in the dishwasher. I think he must aspire to being a dish guy at some fancy diner when he gets older because he just obsesses over the dishwasher. I watched for a second before the horror kicked in. My naked, freshly bathed two year old was taking the dishes that were clean from the washer to the toilet! THE TOILET!!!! He would put each dish in the toilet, swirl it around a little, and then proudly throw it back in the kitchen sink. He was giving my clean dishes swirlies in THE TOILET!!! Really? Of all places you could put my clean dishes, you chose the toilet????

I emptied the remaining dishes before his grubby little hands could get to them and then reloaded the dishes with the ones that he had kindly rewashed for me. From there I headed upstairs just in time to hear Rachel yell "Drezden pooped!". With a diaper on, this would be no big deal, but I was airing out his bum. Luckily none of the poo got on the floor, but he did try to slide off the potty before wiping and left...well...let's just suffice it to say there was a trail. Lovely.

Within twenty minutes of taking a refreshing bath, I had two naked little boys involved in toilet crimes. Clearly it was a Monday.

Door Slammed, Window Opened

I think it's fair to say we've had a long week. Between Aiden being thrust into outer darkness for saying something that could be misconstrued as those of a Grand Pubah in the KKK, and a bitter battle with the school district over his honor, and all the day to day stuff that goes on in our wild family, it was a long week. I needed someone to cut me some slack somewhere along the way.

Last night, we opted to take the kids to Red Robin for dinner after taking Aiden to spend his birthday money. We took two cars because Byron was meeting us on his way home from work. Just as we pulled up to the light where we turn into the restaurant, I noticed that the van was idling really hard. I pulled in and parked and noticed smoke coming out from under the hood. Now, I'm no car expert, but I'm pretty sure I read somewhere the smoke coming out of your car is generally a really bad thing.

Byron lifted the hood and I worked on calling a friend from our ward who is a mechanic to tell us what to do. I didn't really know how we'd get all five kids home, but I wasn't overly stressed about it, either. We were thinking we could just drive it the rest of the way home, about three miles, and then get it towed in later. Just as Byron opened the hood, the gentleman parked next to us came out. "I'm a mechanic. Can I have a look?" I recognized him as the man who'd helped me change my license plates when we were switching states. We were planning on driving the van the rest of the way home, but the man assured us that it would be better to have the van towed. At that point, we just called and asked our mechanic friend to tow the van.

When we got inside, it was starting to swirl around in my head that I didn't know how we'd get all the kids home, but I devised a plan that would have one of us stay with half the kids and the other one drive the oldest three to a neighbor's house. Then, the first one could come back for the other parent and the babies. It would be tiring, but could be done if we were really stuck.

We ordered our food, got the kids (who were all VERY rascally at this point) situated, and waited for the tow truck to came. Just as our meals came, our friend called to say he was outside and ready to tow us. Byron didn't get a bite of food before running outside while I stayed at the table with the kids. Of course that was also the time Rachel realized she really needed to use the restroom. I couldn't unload and take everyone with me to help her, so I told her she needed to wait. While I was with the kids, a family from church happened to walk by and visit. They had a daughter big enough to help Rachel go to the restroom, which she apparently urgently needed to do as evidenced by the not so subtle potty dance she was doing. As simple a task as this may seem, it was big to me. They stayed and chatted a bit and then were on their way.

About three minutes after they left, Byron called from outside and said that the family was also in two cars and had offered to bring some of the kids to the neighbor for us. What luck!!! I thanked them, though probably not enough, and let the three big kids go with them as soon as they were done eating.

While all of this was happening, our waitress came by a few times to refill drinks and take plates away. She noticed Byron's untouched burger and asked if anything was wrong with it. I explained that something blew in our van just when we pulled in and he was outside with the tow truck. She said she was sorry to hear that, smiled at the kids, and went about her business. At least that's what we thought.

After the big three were gone and I was in the process of cleaning up Liam, who had apparently felt the need to use the cheese sauce on his macaroni as body paint, the waitress came back to the table and said "I noticed you guys have all these kids here and it must be so stressful with what happened with your car. It seems like you've had enough bad luck, so I spoke with our manager and the restaurant would like to take care of your bill tonight." You could have knocked me over with a feather. To them it may not have been that big of a deal. To us, it was huge.

I feel like a few doors were slammed on me this week, but last night proved that every window was opened.

*The van didn't start having trouble until we got to a safe destination
*We had two cars with us
*We were parked next a mechanic that could give us wise advice
*Our friend answered his phone when we called
*There was a family we knew we could safely send our children home with
*Our neighbor was up late and willing to take on our three rascals for a few minutes while we tied up loose ends
*A waitress who didn't know us from Adam was attentive to what was going on, and found a way to do something nice for us

We are blessed.