The Other Side of the Card.

While I am currently focused on our upcoming move and in the thick of trying to keep my house clean for potential buyers (Side note: Anybody want to buy my house?  And: Please don't make me go through the work of getting/keeping my house ready to show if you aren't going to buy.  Just sayin'.) I am attempting to mix in at least a few of our annual Christmas traditions.

One of which is our annual Christmas card pictures.  I was happily getting the kids in their Christmas picture clothes, when our realtor called and told me some people were coming to look at our house in an hour and 15 min., and could we please be out by then?

At which point, Dr. C and I cranked the stress level up about 50 notches, threw the Christmas-pic clothes on the kids, buckled them all into the van, turned on Charlotte's Web and then frantically ran back inside to do some last-minute OCD arranging of the towels in the linen closet cleaning.

By the time we drove away, my once-happy-children had been imprisoned sitting in the van for almost an hour, Charlotte had long since died and that Norman-Rockwell-Christmas-picture ideal died with her.  (Note to self: Next time I put the kids in the van to frantically clean, choose a reeeaaaalllllly long movie.)

We went anyway.

I did get a *few* good ones...enough for the card...but I got a wholelotta bad ones.  Lovely.

Here is a sampling, for your viewing pleasure.  (Displeasure?)

Freed from the confines of the van, Fearless takes off the moment we get unbuckled.  Takes several minutes to bring him back. 

Don't be fooled by this cute pic--T-Man was pinching Fearless on the back.  Nice. 

T-Man: I will fake smile now because I know I'm in trouble for pinching.
Miss B: There is drama happening, so I must cry.
Fearless: "Mooooooommmmmy...T-Man PINCHED me!"

We are lucky to be alive after receiving that look.

Now it's T-Man's turn to run away.  Yay.

This cry was legitimate, fell down and scraped her knees.  So sorry, little love!

Miss B to T-Man: "Why the heck are you smiling?!?"



Another legitimate sad face...Fearless cut his hand a little on something and no amount of band-aids, kisses, reassurances would make it better.  On a positive note, T-Man shaped up after the pinching moment.



And now she's outta there.

The End.

Miss B Becomes a Fashionista

Miss B has started taking charge of getting herself dressed in the morning. Yesterday, after picking out a stunning stripped dress, she decided to spice things up and add on some of T-Man's plaid shorts.

Apparently, that wasn't quite the look she was going for.

Instead, a pair of T-Man's gray undies, which she later further accessorized with pizza sauce, were needed to complete the ensemble.

Then, she was quite the happy little fashionista. 

Doesn't Lady Gaga wear some outfits like this?   

 I would have thought that T-Man would voice some objections to his underwear being used as a girly accessory, but Miss B worked her magic and all was forgiven.

P.S. Please also note the hairstyle...that is the hairstyle she gets when she runs away from her mom hairstylist mid-ponytail.  I'm think it's a perfect 'do for the outfit, don't you?

A Slow Start and The Bathtub Pool

It's that time of year.  The time when we are drinking the last few glasses of eggnog that somehow survived past the holidays.  The time when the Christmas decorations have lost their luster and need to be put away so you feel like your house is organized again.  The time when you reflect on the past year and look forward to the next one. The time to get back on schedule. The time to start over. The time to try new things. The time to set new goals.  A new beginning!

I seem to be experiencing a slow start to this year...I haven't even set my New Year's Resolutions yet.  I take choosing my goals for the year seriously because for me, when I make a resolution I want it to be:

1. Challenging
2. Obtainable
3. Measurable
4. Something that I can incorporate into the rest of my life (not just this year)

Which sometimes makes goals hard to set.  I need to come up with things that will stretch me and help me become better...without feeling like they are so out of reach that I give up by February.  The ideas are churning, but I haven't quite figured out what I REALLY want to focus on this year...so no resolutions for now.  Soon, they will come.

In the meantime, Dr. C is back to work, T-Man is back in school, and Miss B has returned to all of her various appointments.  Only Fearless (who doesn't head back to school until next week) and I seem to be in a lull between the holidays being over and the new year really feeling like it's begun. 

So we entertain ourselves with random activities.

Like swimming in the bathtub.

 Please note that the safety goggles from his toy tool set are being used as swimming goggles due to the fact that his swimming goggles that he just got for Christmas were nowhere to be found.

 Please also note that the bathtub crayon is being used as snorkeling gear...which didn't work out so well.

When Miss B woke up from her nap, she joined the fun.  Fearless wanted me to put her swimsuit on too, but she wouldn't wait and was trying to hop in with her clothes on.  I thought I did well just getting her in her birthday-suit.  The swimsuit was not going to happen.

"Here, lil' sis, smell my feet."

At least they were clean.

(In his defense, he wasn't REALLY trying to have her smell his feet.  He was trying to swim and she was going to bite his toes.  The picture doesn't look like that though!)

 They stayed until their feet were wrinkly and the water was, at best, frigid and the floor in the bathroom was holding more water than the bathtub itself.

I wonder what Fearless will come up with next?

Pay Attention

I get frustrated with my kids for not listening when I tell them something or when I ask them to do something.  It's probably close to the top of my list of parent-pet-peeves.

Apparently, I still need to learn the lesson myself too though...as evidenced by this exchange.

T-Man: Mooommmm!  Fearless forgot to flush the toilet!

Me: (automatically) Fearless!  Go flush the toilet! (My part done, I checked out of the conversation and continued working on dinner)

T-Man: I flushed it for him.

Me: (not hearing T-Man, but noticing that Fearless had not moved) Fearless!  GO FLUSH THE TOILET!

T-Man: Mom, I already flushed it!

Me: (still not listening...and still no movement from Fearless) Fearless!  Go flush it now!

(Fearless runs to flush the toilet.)

T-Man: (bewildered) Why, Mom??  Does he just need to practice??

Me: (finally registering what T-Man had been trying to tell me and trying to recover quickly) Umm, yeah, practice.  Good idea.

Oops!  I guess I need to work on paying attention too!  Just another reminder that I still have lots of room for improvement!

10 Minutes At My House

Tonight I was planning on posting all about Fearless turning 4...waxing eloquent about how he's grown and changed and being mushy and lovey-dovey about my second-born.

And then...

Well, let's just start this way.  I had the kids by myself.  I let them stay up late because they were playing nicely.  Miss B was crawling all over the place and practicing standing up while only holding on with one hand.  I eventually told the boys to get their pj's on and go use the potty to get ready for bed.

T-Man took his time, but got changed and ready for bed.  Fearless started to get into his pj's...but then changed his mind half-way (and half-dressed) and decided to use the potty. 

I was still playing with Miss B and T-Man.  After a long while, I realized that Fearless had not yet emerged from my bathroom.  (Side note: Why do these things always happen in my bathroom??  You'd think they'd have adventures in their bathroom...but so far, no such luck.)

A moment later, Fearless poked his head and half-naked self out the bathroom door and in his quietest, little-boy-poor-pitiful-me voice he said, "Mommy, there is water coming out of the toilet."

I raced into the bathroom, and sure enough, there is water coming out of the toilet.  LOTS of water.  LOTS and LOTS of water.  Let's just say the term "flooded" would be an understatement.  It was more like FLOODED. 

And the new roll of toilet paper I had just put in the bathroom was now in gobs and  floating and swirling in the flood.

I yelled for T-Man to go get the plunger from their blissfully dry bathroom.  I told Fearless to go get some towels to stop the water from spreading into my bedroom and to start trying to dry it up.

T-Man got back first with the plunger.  Miss B decided to head over to the bathroom to check out the commotion. 

Splash, splash! 
This is funny, Mommy! 

Grabbed Miss B, put her in the furthest corner of my bedroom to give me a few moments to fix the toilet.  T-Man decided to go get towels too...and in the process, runs smack into half-naked Fearless who is returning with the first load of towels.  And not just any running into...it was a full on
head-butting.

Complete with tears all around and a now spurting-bloody nose coming from Fearless.

Left the toilet for a moment, grabbed a kleenex for Fearless. 
Checked to make sure T-Man didn't have a concussion. 
Fearless started freaking out because there was blood on his hands. 
Got more Kleenex to wipe it off. 
Instructed Fearless on the proper way to handle a nose bleed. 
Instructed Fearless SEVERAL times on the proper way to handle a nose bleed. 
Ran back to the bathroom to check on the ever-flowing-toilet.  Still flowing. 

Miss B was back in the bathroom and had spit-up (thrown-up?) on the one dry part of the floor and my bedroom carpet. 

And she was chewing on the plunger. 

YUCK. 

(On second thought, maybe she chewed on the plunger, then spit up because it was DISGUSTING, then went back to chewing on it??  Either way, ICK, ICK, ICK.)

Grabbed Miss B, put her in the hallway, closed the door. 
Fixed the toilet.
Wiped up the spit-up off the floor and carpet. 
Dried the bathroom floor. 
Checked on Fearless' nose.  Stopped the bleeding.  Checked to make sure there were no broken noses.

Sent Fearless to use the potty AGAIN, because apparently the first time he had just been playing the "How much toilet paper can you send down the toilet?" game and hadn't actually accomplished anything while in there.

Started a load of wet towels/bath mats in the washing machine.
Brushed 3 sets of teeth.
Listened to T-Man and Fearless talk about how cool it was that Fearless had blood everywhere.  I guess once it stops bleeding, it's apparently pretty cool to be bloody.  Between the two of them, he is a hero for getting blood to squirt all the way down to his hands and knees.  He was definitely not that excited about it as it was happening...but now...he is TOUGH STUFF.  (Boys.  I give up.)
Sang songs, read scriptures, prayed.
Tucked 3 kiddos into bed.
Decided that the birthday post will have to wait until tomorrow when I'm feeling a little more chipper about my child being 4.

The Child-Critic

Miss B turned one this week! We're having her party tomorrow, so I'll post her whole birthday post after I get the smash-the-cake pictures.

Anyway, this post is actually about T-Man, who has picked up a horrible little habit of being sassy. Ahh, the joys of parenthood!

Yesterday, he was sent to his room for some rudeness--which of course started a new round of rudeness.  He was NOT happy about getting a time out, and wanted to make sure I knew it. Ugh.

Later, when we had both calmed down, I talked to him and we worked it all out and life was good again.

Until T-Man said our family prayer last night.

And I quote:

 "Please bless mommy that she will be nice....not like she was today." 

A Chef and His Dog

This is Puppy. 

T-Man has been carrying him around since he was born.  Puppy is well loved and practically a member of the family.  He has even been photographed in some of our family pictures.  (Mainly to avoid a massive crying/puffy/tear stained face/ meltdown right before pictures. But don't tell T-Man that!)

Puppy has amazing skills too...and knows just about everything and has done just about everything.

"Mommy, have you ever seen a purple cat riding a motorcycle?"

"No."

"Well Puppy has!"

I think I get beat out by that little dog every time.

Puppy is T-Man's alter ego---much like Calvin and Hobbs--although the roles are reversed for these two--Puppy is the wild-thrill-seeking Calvin while T-Man is the voice-of-reason Hobbs of the relationship.

Anyway, one of their latest adventures features forays into cooking.  While at my parents for Spring Break, T-Man told my mom about the recipe for Chinese Pizza that he and Puppy created. My mom wrote it down verbatim...everyone better go get their pots and pans ready...this one should be interesting tasty.

T-Man’s (and Puppy’s) Chinese Pizza


"1 cup of eggs

First you crack them and mix them and then you have to cook them.

Then you do the bacon.

That goes on the bottom.

Bake the bacon for two hours.  (Please keep a fire extinguisher handy for this part!)

Then you put some cheese on them when it’s ready.

Then 2 bags of pepperoni circles-mixed with circles or triangles.

Then some milk-you mix it with some sugar.

Then you put it in the oven and cook it for 10 minutes.

Then you put on all the toppings that you want, like ham,

You can do as much stuff as you want.

It’s a recipe for dogs to eat-it’s poison for cats and humans-

And any animal that’s not a dog."
 

Uh-huh.  Yum.


*Legal Disclaimer: No one here at Life As We Know It is responsible for anything that happens if you follow this recipe.
 

Driving Lessons

We took a last minute trip to Grandma and Grandpa's for Spring Break. Dr. C had too much work to do, so I drove the 7+ hours with three kids by myself.  That is always an adventure!  I learned a few lessons along the way:

• Putting a T-Man in charge of feeding Miss B her baby food while I was driving had mixed results-as in the food got mixed up all over Miss B's face and carseat.
• I can drive with one hand and reach all the way across the van or all the way behind my seat to hand snacks/books/marker caps to various children.  I think this should make me better at yoga.
• I can take all three children into McDonald's bathroom for a potty break/diaper change and be out in 3 min.
• Singing VeggieTales' "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" at the top of your lungs will keep you awake for a long, long time.
• NPR stories get more and more interesting the longer you drive.
• Snacks are ESSENTIAL.  (For me, not the kids.)
• Pulling into the driveway with everyone happy is a very large victory!

Happy Spring Break everyone!

Toothbrush lovies

I haven't posted in awhile because, honestly, we are slightly boring.  Which I actually think is nice.  When we got Miss B's diagnosis, I remember wondering if life would ever be "normal" again.  And now I know--the answer is definately yes!  It seems like sometimes people think that because we have a daughter with special needs, that our lives are...I dunno...unusual?  And sometimes, when I sit back and look at our life, it IS fascinating--but most of the time, we are just like everyone else--we wake up, we take T-Man to school, Dr. C goes to work, Fearless, Miss B and I play or go to therapy appointments  (which is really just specialized play-time anyway!), we eat lunch, we have naptime, we pick up T-Man from school, we do homework, we eat dinner, we hang out as a family, the kiddos go to bed, and Dr. C and I take a break.  When you compare that schedule to the schedule of every other family with little kids, it's not that much different.  I'm not sure exactly what I had been expecting during those post-diagnosis pregnancy days, but I am happy that my worst-case-scenario thoughts about my daily life are so very, very different from my reality.  Lately, we've been doing the typical Christmasy stuff--cookie making, decorating, parties, shopping, etc.  Just like we have done every other year--so far the only thing that has been different about this Christmas season is that now I'm buying pink presents too!

Now that I have totally digressed from my original topic of my post, I will get back on track. 

Anyone that has met my children could tell you that Fearless is my wild-card child.  You never really know what you are going to get with him.  This past week, he has started up a new obsession:  toothbrushes. 

It's probably my fault--in my effort to encourage my children to brush their teeth, I have told them that if they don't brush, their teeth will rot (which is true).  T-Man didn't  believe me, so we looked up pictures of rotting teeth on the internet and found some pretty gross teeth.  I failed to leave out the minor detail that it probably would take a little bit of time for the rotting to happen--they think that if they don't brush their teeth one night, they will wake up in the morning with oldy, moldy, rotting teeth.  If they don't come brush their teeth when I ask them too, all I have to say is, "That's fine, we'll just let your teeth rot."  and then they will come running and screaming as if their arm was being cut off.  (Ok, so maybe I overdid the scare tactic just a tad, but they do have nice teeth, and that's what counts, right?)

Fearless has always been a pretty good teeth-brusher--but usually his favorite part is the toothpaste, not the toothbrushes.  Anyway, about a week ago, Dr. C and I went into the bathroom to brush our teeth before bed, and ALL of the toothbrushes were missing.  We checked the floor, the trashcan, the tub, the toilet (thank heavens they weren't there!) the cupboards--everywhere we could think of.  Finally, we decided to check the boys' room, and sure enough, Fearless had them in bed with him, like they were his favorite lovey.  He was totally asleep, so we pryed them out of his hands, washed them thoroughly, and chalked it up to being a three-year-old.  But then it happened the next night, and the next night.  (It would probably still be happening, but Dr. C just decided to hide them at night.)

He is just coming into the scared-of-the-dark-monsters-under-the-bed age--so maybe the toothbrushes are protection from the rotting teeth monster?  Who knows.  Everytime we ask him about it, he gets his guilty grin and says, "I don't know".  I have spotted him playing with them during the day too--petting the bristles, making them "talk" to each other...

I will probably never understand the craze and I really have no idea why he wants them...but I am suspicious of the whole thing...he is a three-year-old after all.  And can I just insert a big YUCK into this??  Who wants a 3-year old loving on their toothbrush??  I think it's time to get new ones.

Pampers vs. Huggies

*I was not paid in any way to talk about diapers.  This is just my opinion and experience.

There comes a point in all of motherhood where you just have to talk about baby poop. Today is that post. For those who have no desire to read about it, now is the time to stop reading.

Ok, for the rest of you, consider yourself warned that I will be talking about baby poop and baby poop is gross.

I hate paying for diapers. Seriously. I really have no idea why poop collectors cost so much, but it is ridiculous. With T-Man, we went majorly low-budge on the diapers. I saw no reason to spend extra amounts of money on name-brand diapers. We went with whatever was cheapest--usually some no-name Wal-Mart brand. T-Man pooped out of those diapers almost every single time. Being a first-time mom, I thought he just had an incredibly powerful pooper, until one day my friend said, "Um, do you think it's the diapers you are using?" Oh, DUH! Of course it was! I still didn't want to pay extra though, so I stuck with the Wally world cheapos until one rather unfortunate day at the St. Louis Science Center when T-Man pooped everywhere and I didn't have an extra pair of pants for him and I had to choose between rinsing his poopy pants out in the public bathroom sink and then wearing them wet, or having him go pantless (he was about 2 yrs old at the time) or spending $30 on official Science Center sweatpants that were only available in sizes XS or XL (he needed a medium). That day I swore off the cheapos and moved up to Luvs.

With Fearless I figured Luvs were a compromise. Not the cheapest, but not the most expensive either. And they were fine. No leaks, but diaper rashes were common. Fearless has horribly sensitive skin, so we just dealt with those like we dealt with all of his other skin issues.

Then Miss B came around and spent a week in the NICU where they use the really soft Pampers Swaddlers diapers. They were so nice and soft and just looked more comfy than the other diapers I'd used. I don't know if it was just because I was so worried about her or if it was because she was a girl or what, but I just wanted her to have THE BEST of everything--including diapers. Dr. C went along with it (even though he would have rather just stuck with the Luvs) mainly because I was a crazy lady and if expensive diapers were important to me for some inexplicable reason than we would buy Pampers to avoid me going off the deep end. (I love that man! What a gem to put up with all my craziness!) After life had calmed down a bit and I wasn't quite so touchy about everything, Dr. C convinced me to try some Huggies. A step down from the Pampers fabulousness, but not all the way back down to the Wally cheapos. At this point though, Miss B had become accustomed to her pillow-wrapped bottom and she started getting rashes. (Ha! An excuse to go back to the Cadillac diapers.) So the Pampering continued.

Lately though, I've turned into a couponer, and have really been trying hard to get things on sale, or with coupons or both, to cut down on our household expenses and to get the thrill of a great bargain. And so I relinquished my new love of Pampers to try Huggies Natural diapers this time. (They were a super good deal!)

Miss Banana decided to let me know her thoughts on the matter. I was holding her with her head up on my shoulder, body against my chest. All of the sudden she made that infamous grunt, and poop exploded everywhere—my neck, my shirt, her shirt, her legs, her chest, her hair, my hair, my pants, her hands, my hands—you get the idea. As I went to clean her up, I opened up her Huggies diaper and there was only a smidgen in the diaper. How did that happen?!? Apparently my little diaper diva was so unimpressed with the Huggies that they weren't even fit for her to poop in. Tomorrow, we go back to Pampers.

One Liners

These are actual quotes from my children recently. The best part about them is that they were all said in total seriousness and the poor kiddos looked completely bewildered when I burst out laughing. I love my kids!

Fearless: "Mommy, you and I are human beings, but Miss Banana...she's a GIRL."

T-Man: "Mommy, I think it's good that Miss Banana has an extra chromosome. This way, if she ever loses one, she'll have a spare."

Forever Young

Let me start out this post by saying that I think I look--and feel--my age or older--T-Man and Fearless have even commented on my wrinkles (gotta love the honesty of kids!) but to those who do not know me, I apparently look much younger. When I was the YW President and worked with the teenage girls at my church, another leader thought that I was one of the teenage girls. To top that, one of the teenage boys thought I was a teenager as well! A few weeks ago, I did a garage sale, and as I chatted with people, many said they were surprised I had 3 kids and that I didn't look that old. I will probably appreciate this as I get older, but right now, it just causes some awkward moments with people--moments when I know people are coming to conclusions about me and there is nothing I can do about it. Like the one that transpired with the checker at Target yesterday.

Here's the setup: I was with Miss Banana; T-Man and Fearless were at day camp. I had picked out some shirts and pants for the boys (same things in 2 different sizes) and a couple of items for Miss Banana. The guy scanned the baby things without comment, but when he got to the boys' clothes, he asked if I needed a gift receipt. I said no, I have two boys so I needed the things in 2 different sizes. (This is where awkward conversation begins.)

Checker: (surprised) You have 3 kids?!
Me: Yep.
Checker: (suddenly silent, obviously sizing me up and eyeing me suspiciously) How old are they?
Me: 5, 3, and 3 months (flashes wedding ring, trying to project being "older")
At this point the checker is silent and all pleasantry has stopped. Finally, he gets to the "would you like to open a Target credit card?"
Me: (trying to regain camaraderie) No thanks, we are moving to a city that doesn't have a Target
Checker: (not as friendly as before) oh, where's that?
Me: a small, university town
Checker: oh, are you going to start school there?
Me: No, my hubby is going to be a professor there
Checker: Oh! Hmm. (Look that says: TEENAGE MOM MARRIED MUCH MUCH OLDER MAN!)

At this point Miss Banana started wailing, so I had no further chance to try to convince the guy that I was not what he had surmised--I wanted to burst out with "I already have my degree! My children weren't born until after I was finished with college!" but I thought that would maybe add to the wierdness and I decided to just let it go.

He said what?!?

Tonight, T-Man kept trying to distract Fearless while he was trying to say his prayer before bed. When Fearless was finished, I told T-Man I was disappointed with him for not being reverent during Fearless's prayer and for encouraging Fearless to make bad choices too. Then Fearless piped in, "Yeah, T-Man was acting like Satan!" At this point Dr. Corn and I burst out laughing and the lecture was over. Ahh, kids say the darndest things!

Cannabalism? Nah.

T-Man is starting to realize that beef comes from a cow, like the one we saw in the field the other day. Or that chicken is, well, chicken--with feathers and beaks and all that. The following occured as we were eating pork the other day.

T-Man: Pork comes from a pig. We eat pigs.
Mommy: Yes.
T-Man: Do pigs eat pigs?
Mommy: Not that I know of.
T-Man: But people eat pigs.
Mommy: Yes.
T-Man: Do people eat people?
Mommy: Umm....not usually.
T-Man: Yeah (thinking)...thumbs down.

And with that rating of cannabalism, the conversation ended.

Pet names

Fearless started calling me "babe" and "sweetheart" today. I guess he thinks that if Dr. Corn can call me that, then he has that right too. I assume that eventually I'll be concerned that I have a little womanizer on my hands; but, I have to admit it's pretty funny to have my toddler drop something and say, "What happened to it, babe?" and pretty darn cute to have him throw his arms around my neck and say, "Hey sweetheart!"

What is it about laundry??

Something about switching over laundry inspires something in children...Courtney's story about Baxter needing surgery after a quick run downstairs to switch over the laundry made me realize that it is not just my children that think that laundry time is mischief time.

Did you know that in the time it takes for me to switch over a load of laundry, my children (or was it one child??) can unravel a whole roll of toilet paper into the toilet, throw all of the flushable wipes in individually, then add the wipes container (for good measure), close the lid, and run off to play with toys like nothing happened?

More Science Observations

Lead scientist T-Man is studying our solar system. Thanks to The Magic School Bus, T-Man has learned that no one lives on Mars. The reason? According to T-Man, "Because their mommy told them it was not okay to live there and they need to go home."

Gravity

Our Family Research Facility is constantly trying new science experiments and testing the limits of science (and of their mother). For the past few days, lead scientist Fearless has been working on studying gravity.

Experiment #1: When eating Cheerios without milk, is it possible for a toddler to keep them on the spoon on the way to his mouth? After 3,897 repeated trials, the outcome: 3 Cheerios made it to the mouth, the rest of the bowl landed on the floor. Gravity wins!

Experiment #2: What happens to a toddler if he flips over the rail of his crib? After 2 trials, the outcome: IT HURTS!! Gravity wins again! (And Fearless wins a new twin bed!)

These findings will be published in: The Journal of Fearless's Childhood.

The future plans of a three year old

T-Man recently has been really interested in the things that he will do when he grows up. It's pretty cute to hear the things that he wants to do; here are just a few of them (all of these he has come up with on his own, with no coaching from his parents):

• Run in "a big race" (aka, marathon) with Daddy
• Play basketball for BYU
• Go on a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
• Work in Nebraska's Capitol building (T-Man has also decided that Fearless will work there too)
• Drive firetrucks and police cars
• Sing in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
• Ride his bike to work everyday (like Daddy)
• Fly to Barbados in a jet plane with Fearless as the pilot and T-Man as the passenger (no insights as to what they will DO when they get there, they just need to fly there.)

The funny thing is that none of them are necessarily mutually exclusive, it is possible that he could do it all...he will just be very busy!

The word of childhood

Before I had kids and people would ask me to describe my childhood, I would think of playing outside, weekend campouts, riding bikes with my friends to get candy from 7-11, making mud pies with my sister, cleaning my room by stuffing all the toys under the bed, staying up late reading a book by flashlight under the covers, etc. Words like, carefree, fun, and innocent came to mind.

Now that I'm a mom, I think of childhood a bit differently. Today, I reached to open a cabinet door and found that the handle was coated with jam from this morning's toast. Later, I went to turn on the faucet in the bathroom, only to find the handle coated with half-dry sparkling peach hand soap. I wiped smeared chocolate brownie off of four hands and two faces, and then had my foot stick to the floor from previously unseen spilled juice. My new word to describe childhood? Sticky.