A "fairy nice" birthday present

For my birthday, Rob took the kids to the dollar store to pick out presents for me.

While he says he reminded the kids extensively that the presents were for Mommy, their interpretation of my interests was somewhat different than my own.

Little Bird got me a package of Cars candy. Which he promptly ate most of. (I was cool with that...they were really gross!)

Squirrel bought me a lovely fairy play doll which she named Fairy Dust. (I have to say though, her selection was kind of brilliant, because now every time she starts to play with her princess dolls, she remembers Fairy Dust and I am suddenly expected to play along, rather than passively observe. Clever girl, this one...)

The best part of Fairy Dust is that she is a little unique.

When we opened her up, we realized she only had one shoe.
Eh, no big deal. I mean, for a dollar, can you really expect a complete collection of accessories 100% of the time?

And then I realized why she only had one shoe...a practical solution to her other issues. 

It seems Fairy Dust is missing more than just a shoe. 

At first I thought Squirrel wouldn't notice, but of course she quickly did. 

I told her Fairy Dust had a "little foot"; just like Nemo has a "little fin."

She seemed to take that just fine. 

The best part, was later as she was playing with Fairy Dust and the Princess Barbies, I heard her telling the Princesses that Fairy Dust was special, to be nice to her, and that her "little foot" helped her fly and land on flowers, and that was why Fairy Dust is the best fairy. EVER. 

And that is why I am pretty sure I have the best daughter. 

EVER.  

A Love Letter to Disneyland

Hey all! We just got back from Disneyland (so. much. FUN!) on Wednesday at 2:30 AM. I had a meeting the same morning that I had to get up at 6:30 for. Then I stayed up that night until almost 2:00 AM getting ready for the arrival of my 210 boys the next morning...on which I awoke at 6:00 AM. The cycle continued until, well, now...because it's past 3:00 AM and I am blogging. Because apparently I don't believe in sleep...

Anyway, we had an awesome time at Disney. We really, truly did and it was so fun to enjoy with family and see my kids experience and love the magic that is Disneyland. While we were there, my sister asked, "Don't you ever feel caught up in the commercialism of Disney?" and I had to admit that I sometimes do...it's something I struggle with because I really do love the place so dang much, even with their $10 hamburgers and $6 Uncrustable PB&Js. But, one thing I truly appreciate about Disneyland is the fact that they work hard to make it more than just commercialism for the sake of itself--there is real magic, from the characters to the parades to the way the cast members throughout the park treat you, Disney goes above and beyond to make it truly memorable, and like stepping out of the mundane. In that way, I think they are trying to stay close to the vision of Walt Disney. Say what you want about the shows or the movies, but the man himself was incredible, and more than any other part of the company, I think the parks work hard to make magic a real experience. So, yeah, the food is overpriced and they charge your a million bucks for the soda they are given for free and the light up toys are 98745376 times more expensive than they should be...but if that's what it costs to let my kids believe in and experience magic, I'm gonna have to roll with it.  (Okay, I warned you before we left that I would be all Disney all the time for a while...and it may keep up a few more posts--so, my apologies to those who live cold dead lives absent from a "Disney heart.")

 I'll share lots of pictures of my favorite moments later, but for now I want to tell you a little story that has nothing to do with my family, but everything to do with Disneyland being totally awesome:

While we were waiting in line for Pirates of the Carribbean, I noticed this very distinguished Pakistani (I assumed) gentleman ahead of us. He stood very tall, had a long white beard and was dressed like a tribal sheikh, or elder, in traditional all-white turban and long shalwar kameez, like this:

He was obviously important, based on the way he carried himself and the fact that he had a permanent Fast Pass for the day. I also noticed he had several men accompanying him. One appeared to be related to him, as they spoke closely several times. The others were of considerable size and wore well-cut full suits and ties in the astounding heat. At first I thought they must be crazy (or perhaps very orthodox) to wear black suits in the heat, but after watching the way they led the elder and were very attentive to the people around him, I recognized them as his body guards.

Of course, I thought this whole thing rather interesting, and wondered why this group would choose Disneyland to visit. I rode Pirates and pretty much forgot about it, until we were leaving the ride, and once again, they were just ahead of us. As I watched them proceed away from the ride, I saw the bodyguards, still very serious, looking around ahead of their charge. He, I saw laughing and looking like he had rather enjoyed the ride. And when I saw them all turn to head out of the exit, I caught sight of each of them wearing one of these:

And I have to say, I totally got it. Because if I were in his shoes, visiting a foreign country, yeah...I'd take a trip to Disney too--enjoy my first visit and my permanent fast pass, be awed by the wonder of the parades and shows and animatronic Jack Sparrows, and even let my bodyguards have a little fun on the rides with me. Awesome. Seriously, awesome. And that, my friends, is why Disneyland really is the Happiest Place on Earth. 

More later, if you can stand it!

Just like riding a bike...or not.

You know that old saying, "It's just like riding a bike"?

Well, sometimes it isn't.

I've been wishing for a bike for a while. I really can't even remember the last time I rode a bike, but long to enjoy our short summer pulling the bike trailer, the kids loaded up and slurping snow cones. Not having a bike makes that less likely.

Lately, I was at a certain large retailer which shall remain nameless, but which has been associated with some other excitement in our lives. I saw a great little bike, and it's bigger sister, both of which were the same price and surprisingly affordable.

Tonight, we had to be there for something else, so I showed Rob the bikes. He told me to hop on one, so I tried the little one first. I was a little wobbly on it and he laughed at me, but admittedly, it is a little hard to ride a bike when you only have about 15 feet in an already over-crowded aisle.

I decided to try the larger bike, assuming the small one was just cramping me a little, and throwing off my balance. I backed up further, gave myself lots of room, and took off.

And I crashed.

Friends, I crashed in the truest sense of the word: slow-motion, see it coming, face-plant-into-metal, absolute-loss-of-control CRASHED.

I got myself going, and right there in the middle of large-rural-retailer, I lost my balance and steered myself directly into the ceiling-high rack of bicycles. Trying to stop myself and failing miserably, I caused a raucous that brought employees running. All the while, Rob stood there, eyes wide, asking, "Are you KIDDING ME? Did you SERIOUSLY just crash a BICYCLE?" instead of helping me.

And when I finally lifted my bruised body off the tangled mayhem I had created, I looked down, only to find my ego still laying in a heap, curled in the fetal position.

At which point I began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. I laughed until tears ran down and snorts came out my face. And I told my ego to get off the floor and suck it up....because we had to get out of there, and how.

For the record, Rob is now considerably more skeptical of this bicycle wish I have. Apparently, some of us DO forget how to ride a bicycle.

I do wish I had caught my own bike crash on video, but I will have to settle for this one. 

 Here is one of the best ever (and proof that the Gospel must be true, since these are the missionaries that are managing to work miracles...

and come home alive after 2 years in a far away place!): 

Enjoy! {Click!}

If that wasn't enough, try {this one} and {this one}! 

Old Scratch

Has it really been nigh on a month since I posted? For shame...I have a good excuse...well, I have a good excuse for part of that. Our computer had to go to the hospital. It suddenly wouldn't start up and I thought all was lost (and was suddenly even more grateful I'd been keeping a blog, because at least those memories would have been kept safe)! Luckily, it was a wire that came loose between the hard drive and the...well...I don't know what. But a wire DID come loose, and one end of it was to the harddrive, and it made our computer not turn on, which required a lengthy stay at the Computer Medical Center (real name) to have surgery and get better. But it's back now, so I can finally upload some pictures and updates. :)

Totally unrelated to any of that, I would now like to introduce you to someone. He doesn't really have a name, though after our most recent encounter, I have started calling him Old Scratch...as in the Devil. That's right, I'm pretty sure this guy is Lucifer himself...

{Look at that EVIL...}

What? You don't believe me? Allow me to elaborate. This squirrel, Old Scratch, is probably the fattest, most well-fed, and BRAZEN squirrel in the lower 48. He lives in our garbage room of the dorm. Which means that he feeds off the scraps of 120 college girls with kitchens. {READ::::BAKED GOODS}

Not only does he have a constant smorgasbord from the garbage rooms at the dorm, he defends that territory as though the girls are going to go digging through the bins to reclaim their discarded goods and reduce his feast. More than once, I have passed by the garbage room and nearly been given a heart attack as this little demon shoots out the door and stares me down, just waiting for a sign of weakness so he can eat my eyeballs out of their sockets. 

Even worse, he has also taken to begging for scraps. 

Now that the weather is nice, many of the dorm girls are spending time eating out on the lawn in the courtyard: "Oh look!" they cry innocently as the serpent approaches. He cautiously comes over, batting his false eyelashes at them and pawing his tiny claws in the air. "Awwwww...he's hungry," I hear. There is usually a pause at this point, as the girls offer him a little snack....and then, the screaming begins. It begins because once you give Satan a foothold, he is there to stay, and as soon as you toss this heathen beast a crust, he leaps onto your lunch and makes off with it! 

The picnics are becoming less frequent. As such, the monster is escalating his attacks... 

Yesterday, on my way back from the laundry room with my arms full, I walked past the open kitchen window and heard a little scritch-scratch. My immediate instinct was to wonder what sort of trouble my children were getting into. Instead, as I pushed open the door, I saw Lucifer himself dart across my path, leap onto the recliner and climb up the back so that he stood at nearly eye level with me. He opened his beady eyes wide, stood on his hind legs and pawed the air as if to say, "Out of here woman! There is nothing to see! Go on your way!" 

I, however, did what I had to. In the face of evil, one has only a single option. And that is to scream like a sissy-girl, drop the laundry and run right back out the door....

He apparently knew he was defeated and that I would NOT be tempted to join his legion of darkness. He grabbed himself a pink cupcake and darted out the door. And this, my friends, is where he really played dirty. Did he run back to his garbage room to eat my cupcake? Hide his sins in darkness? NO. He hopped out the door, and climbed up three of the stairs that are immediately outside of it, and used his tiny little demon-paws to eat that cupcake in plain view, as if to further taunt me. In fact, he even ate the wrapper (hedonistic glutton!), which he is finishing in the above picture. 

What Old Scratch doesn't know is that I have the number to animal control on speed dial, in case he ever tries to make his way in again. 

Get thee hence, Satan....

{Curly Little Bird}

Growing up, we used to pick on my mom for how long she let my youngest brother (the baby of the family) go without his first haircut. We laugh together about the fine mullet he had grown and the fact that those little blond locks could cause such hand wringing and torment.

Sometimes, you pay for your judgements.

I cannot bring myself to cut Little Bird's hair. I recognize the fact that his hair is getting way out of hand. I readily accept that at SOME point, I will have to get the poor kid a hair cut. I know that, most of the time, the poor kid looks like this:

{Even I have to admit that his 'do is unfortunate...and yes, I do take him into public like that, thankyouverymuch...}

But the fact is that he has hair like mine. And in a world where nearly all of my children's features belong to daddy, it's nice to have a little something of my "own." Not only that, but the specific characteristic of his hair that makes it so UTTERLY impossible to cut is that it is CURLY. Just like mom's. Unfortunately, that also means it is curly, just like mom's, i.e., it curls beautifully when just out of the tub/shower...and not so beautifully the morning after {see above}. 

I know I picked on my mom about my brother's hair, but this is so much MORE than a few little curls at the nape. This is HAIR...beautiful ringlets even Alexander Pope would be unable to fully do justice. And while daily I find myself coming to the conclusion that yes, it is finally time to bite that bullet, and get the poor guy a haircut, every evening for a short glorious while, THIS happens: 

And my mind is changed all over again. 

So Mom, I totally get it. Totally. 

Wednesday...

Sick again in the little home in Idaho....

We've all been sharing a nasty cold around here, but poor Mister's been sick ten days. His classes are super intense this semester and I think it is taking a toll on him, or at the very least, prolonging his illness.

He had his very first cup of tea last night. He woke up coughing his brains out--really, I'm pretty sure he lost some--and I asked him if he wanted me to make him some tea. He looked at me like he thought I might be trying to play a trick on him, and said, "I don't know...what is it? How do I...? I don't know...." So I made the poor guy a cup of orange ginger tea, and wouldn't you know, it actually helped. Today, he even requested I fill his thermos with it before he leave for the library. (And he insisted I had to do it, because he didn't know how...you know, because hot water and a tea bag CAN be pretty darn tricky...)

At any rate, with the cooler weather and the sickies going around, we've enjoyed snuggling up in blankies and sipping our tea together.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

While I've been sitting around miserably, I found some super fun links I thought I'd share:

Free ADORABLE printables from Paper Glitter. Check her blog out too. You might just experience cuteness overload, and I can't wait to print some out for me and the kiddos.

Free printable 2011 Owl Calendar at My Owl Barn. There are thirty one-of-a-kind pictures to choose from to personalize your calendar and download as a PDF.

{This little guy is just waiting to count the days for you!}

Crochet inspiration HERE

{Yummy yarn is calling my name. Can you believe I have never made a Granny Square? I can't}

People who know us know that we LOVE Halloween in our house, and that means I totally heart fun and spooky projects. The girls over at Eighteen25 hosted a link party for Halloween inspiration, and oh.my. 495 linkies so far--there is a Halloween project for anyone! Check it out!
Beyond the link party, they have tons of fabulous decorating ideas. This glorious cabinet display just fills me with envy:

Also, I'm pretty sure that once I am feeling 100%, these are definitely getting made: Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies with Cherries and Pecans via the Sprouted Kitchen. Mmmm...
{Seriously...doesn't this photo make you want to go bake right NOW?}

Of to mend. I have a couple of tutorials of my own in the works. We'll see if I actually manage to pump them out.

{A Lesson in Environmentalism}

Overheard as we loaded into the car today:

Squirrel: Daddy, it is hot in this car!
Mister: Yep, it sure is. Do you know why it is so hot?
Squirrel: Yes. You tell me.
Mister: It's called the Greenhouse Effect. All the hot sunlight can get in through the windows, but the heat can't get out, so the car gets warm.
Squirrel: Ooooh, the green house....


As we waited in the car for the Mister to get back from grabbing something he forgot:

Squirrel: Mommy, do you know why is so hot in here?
Me: Why is it so hot?
Squirrel: It's the Green House.
Me: Oh, the Greenhouse Effect? What's that?
Squirrel: That's the green guy in here. He is really hot, but he is trap-ed. He is too small to open the doors by hisself, so he gets the car hot.


I can just see her disputing with her 7th grade science teacher..."No, ma'am. It isn't light that gets trapped. It's the little green guy." Here's to saving the planet by letting that poor little green guy out...

{Squirrel Lessons}

Tonight, after the Mister taught a Family Home Evening lesson on how to be reverent when we pray {Squirrel is often up to her usual tricks at bedtime prayers--usually jumping on the bed, or whacking one of us with something, or standing on her head, etc}, Squirrel decided to regale us with some wisdom of her own. She informed us that she needed to "tell a lesson" as well. Here's what we learned:

When you feel sad, take a deeeeep breath {insert Squirrel elegantly raising her 

arms while inhaling} and just be happy. 

Also: When you feel sad, pick some flowers {at which she used 

my floral print shirt to mime the act}, smell them, and be happy. 

After you pick the flowers, you can pick a tree's leaves 

and smell them and be happy. 

Then, get some tape and put the flowers and the leaves back 

in the grass and the trees. 

{Is she smart or what? Self-help AND conservation in one lesson.}

{Musings}

A few tidbits...
Remember when I was expressing the "worse mischief" my little trouble makers were finding? Well, I think I have a winner...and it isn't the one I would have expected...

{Uh-oh...}

{Look at me, Mom! This is FUN!}

{Oh...okay, I'll just clean this up for you...}

Ahhh...it's a good thing he's so awfully cute...and not allergic to peanuts...

In other news, a quick bit of gratitude. 

I tell the Mister often that one of the best gifts he gave me when we married was his sweet family. Granted, his dad likes to take pictures of me drooling in my sleep (he really has quite an impressive collection! [which is also due to the fact that I drool IMPRESSIVELY in my sleep]), but ultimately I am so grateful to be counted among them. I especially find myself in awe of so many of the women in his family--I have learned so much from all of them, including my fellow sisters/daughters-in-law, and love to feel the Spirit they carry. I count my blessings every time I hear those "Mother-in-Law Horror Stories" that so many women seem to carry proudly like battle wounds, because I've never had one to tell. In fact, I often find myself defending Mothers-in-Law the world over, because if mine is so wonderful. 

In addition to the Mister's awesome immediate family though, one of the best surprises I received as part of this gift was of Aunt Ellen. I believe I first met her at our wedding, and the Mister himself had only met her a few times before then. Since that time she has been around much more often and her amazing presence is such a source of joy for us. I LOVE seeing Aunt Ellen. Her laughter is contagious and she is positively full to BURSTING with life. She is also incredibly thoughtful....which leads me to a (sort-of) tangent. 

I manage a housing complex for college girls. This means that I am the replacement mother for 120 18-22 year old girls. This means that I am on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for everything from something as small as not knowing where to get a stamp to as large as strange men breaking in. (Thankfully, the latter has not happened on my watch!) Last semester, I think I had a bit of a honeymoon period; while I had some major crises, they were few, and the day-to-day drama that so many managers experience was almost non-existent. I can tell that this semester will be different, as I have already been faced with many challenges--challenges that outsiders might think are "insignificant," but which to girls in their first "real-world" experience are huge obstacles. I have been VERY tired, spending late nights mediating, and stressed from more time than I like on the phone, consulting other managers and talking to worried parents. 

Imagine my surprise when I received a package this week, containing this: 

It arrived from Aunt Ellen. In the few short days it has been here, this book has already given peace to my soul, been used to share advice to my girls, and brought the Spirit back into heated discussions. It was such a simple gift, and yet I am certain that she was led by the Spirit to send it my way. I am so grateful for this timely gift, but more for the love she showed and the example she gives--the reminder to listen to and ACT on the Spirit. As Elder Uchtdorf writes, "In the end, the number of prayers we say may contribute to our happiness, but the number of prayers we answer may be of greater importance." 

So thank you, Ellen, for answering a prayer from across the miles. Not just mine, but I imagine also that some of the very thoughts in this book have been answer to the prayers of young girls in need of their precise comfort. You are wonderful, and I am grateful for the gift of YOU! 

{Mischief}

"Some are 'industrious' and appear to love labour for its own sake, or perhaps because it keeps them out of worse mischief."

I really love being a mom. I never thought, in my younger years, that I would, but it's the best job I've ever had. People who know Squirrel know that she is exceptionally busy. Almost from the time she was born, she has been getting into things, and "busy" is indeed the number one adjective that people use to describe her when they watch her. (By the way, I know "busy" is just a euphemism for "insane" because I live with her.) Because of her need to constantly be doing anything, I try to plan activities with her, primarily to keep her out of "worse mischief." I've had a few friends comment to me about how we do so much fun stuff, but believe me, it is entirely self-preservation, and even now there are days I am doubtful I will survive this child with my own sanity in tact.

Thankfully, Little Bird seemed to be born with quite the opposite demeanor: calm, observant, compliant. Until he started learning to follow in his big sister's footsteps...

This past week or two has been chaotic. The Mister was faced with finals at the same time I was handling checkouts and inspections in the dormitories. What this has meant is that my perpetually tutu-ed Squirrel and her pants-less brother have been finding more opportunity for "worse mischief;" here's a sampling from a day this week:

First, Little Bird practiced his new Squirrel-taught trick of moving the chairs to gain access to the counter tops:

And then we found Squirrel behind the fridge devouring a bell pepper she found in the veggie drawer. (Honestly, do normal kids even EAT bell peppers? Much less, do normal kids find and scarf whole bell peppers in dark corners? All while wearing a tutu?)

And in the two minutes we were away cleaning up a separate mess made by Squirrel (of which I did not get a picture), Little Bird managed this:

Seems I need to dig a little deeper for some "industrious" ideas for these two, as they are obviously so good at finding worse mischief...

{Egg Hunt}

"She was gone a-hunting."

 

{Our Easter Photo Attempt in a Nutshell...}

"They ask me such questions as, if I think I can live on vegetable food alone..."

In the pursuit of trying to feed my children a bit better, I bought some V8 juice at the store.

The Mister laughed outright when he saw it come out of the bag. "Have you tried that?" he laughed. When I answered that I had not, he laughed harder and said, "Well, you're going to! No fair giving it to the kids and not trying it yourself."

I figured that millions of people must drink the stuff--it can't be all that bad. Besides, Squirrel and Little Bird don't get juice that often, so I thought maybe V8 would be a nice respite from the drudgery of milk and water. Plus, I like to think HDT would have liked V8, had he had it...

Initially, Squirrel was wary and disinterested, so it just sat on the counter. Two days passed and she brought me the bottle, saying that she would like some, so I happily obliged, pouring a bit into her sippy cup. Then I carefully observed to see how my sugar-addicted child would react.
It went about as well as the Mister had predicted.

At first, she just scrunched up her nose. And then she looked at me like I had set her tongue on fire--which she then began to scratch, as if she could rub the taste off. She handed me back her sippy cup, shaking her head no, and pronounced with a look of disgust, "MOMMY! I not LIKE that ketchup juice!"

I tried awfully hard to stifle my laughter as I poured it out and gave her some milk instead.

Later, after I told the Mister how it had gone over, he offered her some more.
"NO!" she said to his offer.
"Why not?" he asked.
She gave him her signature "you are either crazy or an idiot" look, and said, "Because it's KETCHUP!"

Later that night, I finally gave in and tasted some V8.

Turns out, I don't like that ketchup juice either....

"a hundred chickens, all in pursuit of one bug..."

I took some time to document Little Bird's birthday with some one year photos while in Utah. The first few went pretty well. (Isn't his little tie-applique shirt I made him too cute? I used this tutorial.)

Then we did a little wardrobe change to the monster shirt I made him (no tutorial here...that was all me!). 

The trouble was that in the time it took to change his shirt, Grandpa's chickens came over to investigate...and as you can see, Little Bird did NOT like that one bit.

Getting a little nervous at their approach...

Okay, definitely freaked out!

So, I didn't get exactly what I was after, but love these just as much!