science fair fun

Last year, we participated in the science fair for the first time.  Apparently, it was so much fun that everyone had to do it again.  Fortunately, each of the girls had an idea in mind weeks before, and so we were a bit more prepared this year.  I have to say that although I am pretty much a science fair scrooge, I think the girls worked pretty hard and did a really good job.  I have this silly little notion about not doing my kids school work for them, and so with a little help from mom and dad, they did most of the work themselves.  Well. . .good brains, girls!

Ryenne wanted to learn about lava lamps.  She found a recipe to build her own and experimented with different ingredients and amounts.  It turned to be a pretty fun experiment and she was thrilled.  She and the other girls asked her Aunt Andrea to help her cut out the letters for her poster with her handy cricut machine, and boy, were we thankful for her!  Ryenne was also excited because all of the students were so intrigued by her display that she had a busy showing all day at the fair. 

Kate named her experiment "Tooth Attack".  She had wanted to do this experiment last year, but we didn't get around to it in time.  For her research, she collected teeth from Uncle AJ (she didn't make him pull his own-he is an oral surgeon so he donated a few

cast-offs. . .yuck!).  Then she put them into different liquids (juice, soda, and sports drinks) for three weeks, weighing them each week to see how much decay each liquid caused.  You just can't know how much fun it is to have some stranger's teeth sitting in bottles on your kitchen counter for nearly a month- really, you should give it a whirl.  

Emmy wanted to see which bubble gum makes the biggest bubbles.  We all sat around one night blowing and measuring bubbles until I nearly threw up.  (There's only so much Hubba Bubba I can take.)  She was a little bit nervous for her interview with the judges but ended up thinking it was all pretty neat.  

Kate and Emmy were pleasantly surprised when they won first and second place, respectively, for their grades.  Most importantly, they all had a grand time and felt like quite the little scientists.  And me?  Being the obviously scholastically-minded mom that I am, I'm just a little bit afraid that we've got a long career of science fairs ahead of us. 

Ba-Hum-Bug.

little prayers

Claire loves to say the prayer.  If she had it her way, she would say it every time.  In fact, if the truth be told, we would probably all admit that if we had our way, Claire would say the prayer every time too.  The only problem is that we all usually end up laughing out loud by the time she is through. 

For a while, Claire would pray for Winnie The Pooh every time she prayed.  She doesn't seem so worried about him lately.

The other night, she prayed that we could have ice cream in the morning.  I didn't think that was such a bad thing to ask for.

Last evening, we all gathered in Ryenne and Kate's room to say our nightly family prayer.  Claire was already in bed by the time the oldest girls got ready, and so the rest of us folded our arms while Ryenne said the prayer.  Before she was even done, Claire came bounding through the door, full of protest.  "I'm saying the prayer!!!" she reprimanded.  Of course, we all agreed that she could say her prayer.  She folded her arms and began speaking to her Father in Heaven, but soon paused.  Ryenne was sitting close by, so she leaned over to prompt her, "Bless that I will go poopy in the potty tomorrow" (we're potty training this week).  Obediently, Claire immediately followed with, "Bless that Ryenne will go poopy in the potty tomorrow."  At this, we all laughed out loud very irreverently. 

I love little prayers. 

we're very busy around here

We are busy at our house.  Super busy.

(Except just right now, at this moment.)  I'm not really busy at this very second because I'm sitting here typing, drinking my coke, and gearing up for a day of hard work and elbow grease.  I'm not really sure what elbow grease is, except that when I was a little girl and I had a job to do, my dad would tell me to "put a little elbow grease into it!".  I'm gonna do that today, Dad.  Also, I'll just say that I used to be completely grossed out when people started their mornings with a soda pop, but alas.

I'm trying to get organized, but have you ever noticed that sometimes efforts to organize sometimes lead to utter chaos?  Every room in my house is a Disaster.  Disaster with a capital D.  I'm trying to get girls moved into different rooms since we will be sharing spaces now, and if I don't get something figured out today I'm going to call it quits and move to Mexico.  Except maybe I'll move to Hawaii instead because that sounds very nice and a little less complicated.  If you can't face your problems, run from them- that's what I say.

My mom let me in on another secret yesterday which explains the other part of why I feel so overwhelmed.  She said that when she talked to Kate on Friday evening (after our ultrasound), Kate informed her that from now on, we will be very, very busy.  When my mom questioned her further, Kate explained that if the baby was a girl we wouldn't have much to do.  Basically we could just move a girl into this place with nary a blink of an eye.  A boy, however is going to be a whole different ballgame.  Kate proceeded to tell how her mom and dad would now have so, so much to do.  But first and foremost?  "The first thing they've got to do is go and get some boxers,"  she said decidedly.  My mom apologized for not having called me to check in on us for a few days, but said she had refrained on account of knowing that we'd be off buying boxers anyhow.

Phew.  I thought I was busy before, but now?  I hadn't even put boxer buying on my list yet, and suddenly I can clearly see that it's a top priority.  I suppose I should talk to Kate asap to find out what else I'm neglecting.  I'm sure there's loads of things I haven't even thought of.  Scout shirts, football uniforms, college resumes to fill out. . .

I guess I'm gonna need more elbow grease than I thought.





ps.  I'm a bit hesitant to post such scandalous pictures, but I need another opinion.  We're having a hard time believing we are really, truly having a boy (for obvious reasons).  Daily, we pour over the pictures and try to figure out if the little. . . uh. . .you know what I mean could actually just be an umbilical cord, or er. . . .something.  Anyway, we just plain ol' haven't ever seen a boy in an ultrasound so we're a little bit hesitant to believe.  Any second opinions?  After all, I hate to go buy a boatload of boxers when I all I really need is panties.  You know, we're pretty prepared in the panty department, and it would free up all sorts of time for me if I don't need to go boxer shopping.  Thanks for you help. . .

impulsive as it gets

Way back in January, Courtney had to go to Moab for a quick bid trip for work.  When he found out he'd have to go, he told me I ought to come with him.  Of course, it's never that easy to pick up in the middle of the week and leave the kiddos for a day or two, especially when that day or two begins tomorrow!  However, when Grandma C caught wind, she offered to take the kids.  Grandma and Grandpa J had already asked for a sleepover that weekend, so when all was said and done, we had three nights for a little getaway.  Not having done anything this impulsive for a looong time, I was feeling pretty sassy.  However, the next morning before we left, I found myself madly arranging carpooling, lessons, and the like and realized that it's impossible to be completely impulsive at this point in my life!  It was sure fun trying, though!

We took our time getting to Moab and spent the first evening reading a book in the car while Courtney measured, re-measured, computed figures and re-computed before submitting the bid.  It was nice to read and not have any "I ought to be doing something else" thoughts.  The next morning, we headed out for a hike.  Instead of heading to Canyonlands or Arches like normal, we ventured out a different direction and took a hike we hadn't heard of before.  I can't remember what the name of hike is, but it's north-east of Moab, and if you have a chance, you really should give it a whirl (I'm a fantastic good tour guide that way).  It was quiet, remote, and beautiful.  We had a great time. 

At the end of the hike was the coolest arch, (can't remember the name of that either- sorry!).  It reminded me of a smaller version of Rainbow Bridge at Lake Powell.  There was no one around, which made it even better.  We hiked right up to it, laid on our backs under the arch, and soaked up the sunshine the most perfectly blue sky.  What a great way to spend a day.

The third morning we reluctantly packed up and headed home, but since the girls were going to be staying at Grandma and Grandpa's house that evening, we had plenty of time.  After a good breakfast, we got on the road and Courtney asked me if there was anything I'd ever wanted to see between Moab and home.  "Actually,. . ." I said with a smile.  And so it was that I finally fulfilled a long time dream of driving through the historical district of Helper, Utah, a small mining town an hour or so north of Moab.  Every time we drive past that place I see the signs touting their famed Historical District, and I can't help but want to explore it a little.  Well, now there's one more check on my bucket list, I suppose.

Such a fun, impulsive little getaway we had.  I'm a sucker for a few days away with my best guy.  So babe, next time you have to make a quick little business trip to slickrock land?  I'm all over it. 

Except you'll have to give me a minute, please.  I'll have to run that by my babysitters.

the yes mom

Last week I stumbled upon this essay.  I have read and reread it, knowing that it held an answer to make me a better mother.

I say "no" way too much. 

My negative responses come for much the same reasons that she listed in her essay.  "Yes" means mess.  It means work.  "Yes" means effort.  Some days it seems like there's just not enough of me to say "yes". 

So what do I do?  I say "no".  In fact, in the days surrounding my discovery, I was somewhat shocked to realize how much I really do say "no".  It's almost like I find it coming out of my mouth before my kiddos even finish their request.

"Mom, can we pai. . .?"  "No."

"Mom, can I have a . . ?"  "No, not today." 

Yikes!  I really am a fun-hater, aren't I? 

So.  I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, and I'm posting it right here for all (ie: the whole 3 people who actually read this blog) to see in hopes that it will actually become more cemented in my mind.  I'm going to try to become more of a yes mom.  After all, isn't this whole gig about a little mess?  A bit of effort?  A truck-load of work? 

I'm thinking that's what I'm here for, my friends.  In fact, as I recall, no one ever mentioned anything about a 5-star resort vacation when I signed up for motherhood.  However, every so often I notice something about this job.  When I put a little bit of extra effort into my days- perhaps set aside a moment or two for laughter with the rascals- I have a lot more fun!  I'm thinking there must be some connection:  Kids having fun= mom having fun.  Hmmmmm.

Yesterday I gave it a good go.  When Emmy asked if I would color a page from her Tinkerbell book with her, I said "Yes!"  After reading a book to Claire, I stayed in the rocking chair and we had a tickle fest for a good five minutes.  Fun!  When Emmy wanted me to get the costume box down from the garage (a definite "no" request two days ago), I obliged.  What's more?  When the costumes found themselves all over the house, I refrained from nagging to pick up the mess so long as they were still playing with them.  Best of all, last night at dinner when Ryenne was telling us a funny story, I found myself relaxed and hanging on her every word, genuinely enjoying her tale.  So often, I listen with one half of my brain while the other thinks ahead to what we need to get done in order to move our night along at the proper pace.  Last night, I listened with everything I had.  I was present, I laughed with my family, and I loved every second of it.

A little progress, eh? 

As I have pondered on the changes I would like to make in myself, I was reminded of a statement I once read.  When asked about her parenting philosophy, Marjorie Hinckley once responded that she "Tried to never say 'no' if she could possibly say 'yes'," and encouraged mothers to "Have joy in your mothering". 

I guess I never realized that the two pieces of advice went hand in hand. 

So, there it is.  I'm going to try to say "yes" a little bit more.  I hope to at least slow down, listen to what my children are asking, and give a good try to making it work if at all possible.  I did talk to them last night about my new goal, explaining to them that I wanted to say "yes" more often.  Then, we had a little chat- deciding in the end that if I am going to say "yes", then they also have a responsibility to say "yes" too!  If we decide it's okay to do something crazy like getting out the Halloween costumes, then when they are asked to clean up they will need to obey without complaining.  If we make a quick detour to the park, I'll be more encouraged to do it again if I know the girls will come when I ask. 

We'll see how it goes, I guess.  For now, I have a lot to work on.  I need to lengthen my stride, I suppose.  Stand a little taller, dig a little deeper, and listen with both sides of my brain.  I hope to laugh more, smile often, and have fewer regrets. 

Have joy in your mothering. 

Pretty good mantra, eh?  

well, I'll be. . .

A few weeks ago, Grandma Tam gave Emmy and the girls a copy of a Chinese birth calender.  You know the kind?  Basically, you plug in a few numbers and it tells you whether your baby is going to be a boy or a girl.  When Emmy brought it home, she was so excited to show me. 

"Mom!!! It's going to be a boy!  That's what I really wanted was a boy!"  She couldn't contain her happiness.  I didn't want to disappoint, but tried to tell her that that there little calender wasn't actually an exact science.  "I know," she said quickly.

However, I knew she didn't really buy into my pessimism when she immediately asked, "But does this mean we're going to have a Chinese boy?" 

You can bet that's been the joke of the week around here.






Anyway,  just in case you're wondering. . .we did have an ultrasound Friday.  And?  We're in a little state of (happy) shock.  It's a BOY!


(Courtney says he's got a few questions for me if it's a Chinese one.)

to the nice person who brought us our mail

Dear Nice Neighbor,

Thank you for bringing our wrongly delivered mail to our door.  We often get the wrong mail too, but I am lazy and just put it back in the box with a "delivered wrong address" message on it.   You were much nicer than me because you actually brought it right to our door- you went the extra mile to be sure.   I'm not aware of who you are because you quietly slid it into the door and left.  No knock, no doorbell.  I can't say that I blame you, because I'm quite sure that you arrived just as I was blowing my top inside our happy little home.  Chances are, you thought there was a terrible monster inside our house.  And so, along with offering my gratitude for your neighborliness, I also hope to calm your fears.

No monsters here.

Nothing so exciting, actually- just little 'ol me.  However, the two of us tend to be one and the same some days.  Me and the monster, that is.

You see (is is too late for me to try and explain myself?), the girls had been terribly hyper all afternoon.  Terribly.  I'm talking super-duper crazy hyper.  The kind where they couldn't stop laughing and squealing and making an incredible ruckus.  And me?  I'm a certified fun-hater.  It's true that I spent my afternoon trying to bring a halt to all the madness.  Unsuccessfully, obviously.  And I'm pretty sure you may have ventured onto our front porch about the time that the clowns were changing Claire's diaper whilst I was busily stirring supper.  Only it was a super messy diaper.  And they couldn't just change it, but had to be silly and laugh and "ewwwww, gross!!!!" until the messiness (you know what I mean) was all over themselves, Claire, and the carpet.  This is probably where my level-headedness left (what still remained) and my monster-ishness moved in and well. . . you know the rest.  It was somewhere around this point that Kate quit laughing (finally!) and started crying and weeping, "I'm sorry!   I'm only eight years old.  I"m only eight years old."  I will be honest, sometimes I prefer crying over laughing. 

Now the whole ordeal sounds funny, but I will have you know.  Just then it was Not. Funny.  But, yes, you already know that, don't you?

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you thank you, and yes, apologize for my display of Out-Of-Control Mommy.  In the unlikelihood that you ever dare to step foot onto our property again, I would like you to know that I am not always so loud.  Not always so monsterish.  Sometimes (and this is just between you and I), I am even nice to my kids.  In fact, somedays, if the moon and stars are aligned just so, the hyperness doesn't annoy me near as much.  On rare occasions, I step out of my fun-hater mode and actually laugh back.     

You just happened to miss that day.

Thank you for my mail.  May your nightmares soon cease.

Sincerely,
Kelly