Would Anyone Else Like to Cut Open Their Face?

Once upon a time there was a family

who couldn't stop injuring themselves.

Week 1, day 1:  

The giant gorilla dogs from next door break through our fence (again)

and nearly devour our own very vicious dog.

I mean can't you just see that "I'm going to eat you" look in her eyes?

Ya, me neither.

But something about her makes those nasty pit bulls next door go wild.

That night was a bit intense as Dave fought off the beasts with a stick 

while trying to rescue chubby little Mona.

Our very own Damsel in Distress.

Week 1: Day 2

Brooklyn is taking a shower.

She gets out of the shower and is being very obedient by quickly drying off and getting dressed.

Oh wait.

No.

That's not how it went.

Brooklyn was in the bathroom practicing some sort of cryptic ballet moves while wrapped in her towel.

Wet floor + cryptic ballet moves + counter edge + Brooklyn's eye = 

4 stitches and a black eye

Not exactly how I had planned to spend my Family Home Evening night,

but what can you do?

Week 2:

On Halloween Night,

our little mouse takes a full blow to the face from a metal Halloween bucket.

"Oh, you're fine little girl - no more crying," I say.

Only to come out of the darkness 

and see a cut that is all matchy-matchy with Brooklyn's.

Whoops.

(I guess that would explain all the tears...)

Thank goodness hers wasn't large enough to need stitches.

Week 3:

Jack - who is always a very calm child, 

one who would certainly never do anything dangerous

decides to do something very boring and ordinary 

like bend over and pick up a book.

Which just happens to be next to a small end table with very sharp edges.

Cue screaming and blood.

Oh no you didn't.

He walked in just as we were about to have dinner.

Dave and I most definitely gave each other "the" look.

The one that says, 

"Whose kids are these?"

Normally I don't get squeamish at all with these types of things (good thing, huh?)

but this one got to me a little bit.

So proceed with caution.

Gross.

That is a pretty wicked awesome line of bloody tears across his cheek.

This one took some "skin un-rolling" (barf) and 5 stitches.

Which brings our 2 week stitch total to 9.

In an effort to preserve our only remaining scar-free kid,

we are implementing a fool-proof safety program.

Original image from http://www.coloribus.com/adsarchive/tv-commercials/suzuki-kizashi-bubble-wrap-suit-kizashi-vs-mercedes-14116955/

That should do the trick!

But I will tell him to use extreme caution while shaving those neck whiskers.

*No animals were seriously harmed in the making of these stories.

Only children.*

Brooklyn Will Make A Really Great Mother

There are a lot of reasons why I think that Brooklyn 

will make a really fantastic mother someday.

She's just naturally wired in a very maternal way.

But today,

she put the cherry on top.

She said something that made me realize 

that she sees the true rewards of being a Mother.

We were delivering some cookies to a friend of ours.

Brooklyn says, "Mom, they only have 3 kids in their family.

Why did you put 7 cookies on the plate?"

I told her that each of the kids would be able to have 1 cookie 

and then maybe the parents can each have an extra one.

She quickly replied,

"Or probably the Mom will eat the extra ones tomorrow

while the Dad is at work."

YES!

Nailed it.

If I haven't taught her anything else,

at least she fully understands the family pecking order 

when it comes to plates of treats.

What else is there?

Halloween 2013

Well, we made it to the end of October.

October was one wild month.

For Halloween,

I basically should be awarded the funnest mother in the world award.

Oh wait.

No.  I shouldn't.

I waddled around doing the bare minimum.

I really didn't put up any decorations (partially because we don't really have any)

and when it came time to carve the pumpkin,

I set some kind of world record.

13 minutes flat.

It was dangerously close to bedtime and I was tired.

But I had promised them that we would do it.

So we cleaned out and carved that bad boy in no time at all.

And even though it doesn't look like it, 

Bradley and Aubrey were actually happy about this experience.

As far as costumes go, I've never been the biggest fan of Halloween.

I usually prefer to say something super thoughtful like,

"Eh, just go dig something out of our dress up box."

Which is pretty much what happened this year.

Without further adieu,

The devil/vampire failing miserably at making a scary face...

The Red Power Ranger who doesn't understand the importance of proper footwear while battling bad guys.

The Blue Power Ranger who flipped his beak when I tried to paint his face.

I guess when you're a really good ninja 

(and have moves that this guy clearly does), 

you don't need a disguise.

And a little mouse.

Who is just too delicious for the likes of me.

Here's one final shot of our little goblins on their way out to collect chocolate for their mother.

(There's no need to pretend that's not the truth)

At the last minute, the red ranger decided that he was better suited as a pirate.

Although after a couple of hours in that super "special" wig,

he reported that he was glad he didn't have girl hair.

Good to know, right?

I will not kick my teammates.

I do apologize for the Jack overload.

He just seems to be the current child who is providing the most interesting things to blog about.

Which in my book = naughtiness.

This dynamic child of mine has a teeny tiny competitive streak.

When he is playing soccer (or any other sport) he kind of resembles a bull in a bull fighting ring.

He's focused, he's intense, and a little bit frightening.

We spend a lot of time "coaching" him on how to properly channel this "personality trait" of his.

Well last week while at soccer practice, Jack's team was playing a 3 on 3 scrimmage.

All was going well until (gasp) the other team happened to aggressively get around Jack and score a goal.

So what did our little sportsman do?

Ya, he decided to kick his teammate in the shin.

Wonderful.
He came home and got a thrilling lecture on being a good sport and why he needs to control his temper.
Aannd then he spent the next 30 minutes doing this:

It was pretty much awesome.

I needed something with a bit more punch than just a lecture and a promise that he would apologize when he saw his teammate again.

What better punishment for a boy who despises writing?

He was not happy about this.

See those tear stains on his paper?

Don't go feeling sorry for him...

He thought he was sure to grow old 

in the amount of time it would take him to write this sentence 25 times.

But he lived.

And on his very own, 

he apologized to his teammate when he saw him a few days later.

Sweet success.

I am just praying that all of these growing experiences (for him AND us) 

will form this fellow into a great man someday 

because he certainly keeps us on our toes!

Baby Bowen #5

If you and I are facebook friends,

then I suppose you've heard the news.

We're expecting a tiny human.

That just happens to be a boy.

Dave and I didn't care whether we were getting a boy or a girl.

It would be a tie breaker either way.

But apparently, by the reactions I got from our other kids,

they all had a gender selected.

I broke the news to each of them separately.

Here's how it went down:

Me:  We're having a boy.

Or, the baby in Mommy's tummy is a boy.  

Or, you are getting a baby brother.

Aubrey:  (She looks at me with one lifted eyebrow) and says,

"Ummm, no.  I don't want a boy baby.  It's a girl baby."

Bradley:  "Yay!  Will he be born with a light saber?"

Jack:  With a jump and mega fist pump - "YES!  We will have a boy army!"

Brooklyn:  "Sigh.  Ok Mom, but the next baby needs to be a girl, OK?"

It seems that my girls are seriously concerned (or in denial) 

about the fact that there will be more males in this home.

And by the responses from my boys, 

it sounds like we should all be concerned.

Yay for babies!

And yay for kids who keep life interesting.

Bring on January 7th!

Teach a Boy to Fish

Every time we take a trip to Idaho,

Jack requests one thing.

To go fishing with Grandpa.

Unfortunately, he doesn't exactly see the whole picture.

What he is really saying is that he wants to sit and break rocks with Bradley

while Grandpa gets a fish on the line.

At which time he will gladly run over and reel it in.

So this time, I told my Dad that I wanted Jack to have the full  start to finish experience.

I should be honest and say that I was secretly rubbing my hands together 

and laughing a little evil laugh.

Jack was going to get much more than he bargained for.

And I liked it.

First up:

Gather the bait.

What's wrong, Jack?

Don't you like pulling nasty, slimy worms out of the ground?

Your sister doesn't seem to mind.

What is it with my girls?

I have a picture of Brooklyn around this age loving on a little worm.

Weirdos.

Next:

hold the pole for awhile, get bored of waiting, and go break rocks with Bradley.

Ahem.

Finally - the big moment!

Reel that baby in!

He was quite pleased with "his" catch.

He kept telling me how amazing it was that he caught a rainbow trout.

Because as he says it, there aren't very many rainbow trout in the world - 

only the very best fishermen can catch them.

Riiight.

Whatever the case, I would happily give 100 bucks

 to know what is going through Bradley's mind in this picture.

He looks seriously concerned.

Right about here is when I start getting a little bit excited.

On the drive back to my parents house

I started talking to Jack about how we can't just kill Heavenly Father's creations.

If we are going to kill them, then we must use them for food.

Which actually made a lot of sense to the boy.

And he was totally up for the experience.

Until he saw exactly what had to be done to prepare the fish for eating.

Would anyone like a close up?

Ahhh...priceless.

I figured that it was best that he has this experience now 

rather than making this face in front of his friends at Scout camp.

I'm really quite thoughtful like that.

He struggled a bit to finish the gutting,

but we were able to get him to cut the head off.

Wow - don't mind the cat in the background.

She was enjoying a delightful lunch of fish guts.

Yum.

We cooked the fish and served it up for the boy.

For some reason, he really wasn't too interested in eating it.

It's not like he'd been traumatized or anything...

We made him try a bite - which he of course said was gross.

But he later confided in me and said that it was actually kind of good.

Maybe we should have let a little more time pass between the gutting and the eating...

Camping Palooza

We have had a lot of fun this summer.

We've been here,

we've been there,

we've been a little bit of everywhere.

We managed to bribe a few friends into hanging out in the mountains with us.

Here are a couple of reasons not to go camping with the Bowen's.

1.  We will absolutely win any "who has the dirtiest kids" competition.

 2.  We tend to have shoe issues.  Nothing major...just forgetting them completely.

For the record - they were on his feet when we left our house, they just didn't make it past our stop at a friends house. 

Sharlene - have you seen an extra pair of shoes lying around?

3.  I will take many "just in case they get married someday" pictures of your children and mine.

Aren't they adorable?

Just this last weekend we went "camping" with several families from our ward.

I say "camping" because does it really count as camping if you have showers, flushing toilets, beds and a full functioning kitchen?

I'm not going to to lie.

I don't care if it counts or not because it was awesome!

Well, it started being awesome AFTER I barfed my guts out on the way up there.

Taco Bell + winding mountain roads = well, nevermind.  Use your imagination.

The lodge slept 32 people and we filled almost all of the beds.

Here's what you get when you ask the big girls to pose for a picture.

Ahhh...they will all be terrorizing their leaders at girls camp in a few years.  :)

And here's what you get when you ask the big boys to pose.

No love for the camera and nasty, dirty boy feet.

Thanks guys.

While we were there we took a couple of short hikes.

The first was at a place called Dome Rock.

It was a fairly simple hike the led to a large rock 

which overlooked a beautiful valley in Sequoia National Park.

This is the part where we discovered that Jack 

has a teeny weeny (ok, huge) fear of heights.

Who knew?

Maybe if you would wear real shoes rather than soccer cleats...

(I told you we have shoe issues)

The poor boy was shedding a few tears 

and had to be coaxed out for a little family picture.

He was not a happy boy.

On the way down, he was holding onto me for dear life and I quote,

"Mom, why did you take us up there?!  

You knew we could have died!

Do you promise not to take us anywhere like that ever again?!  

This is the worst day of  my life!"

Well, I am sure glad that I can provide you with lasting memories, my son.

On our way home on Saturday, we stopped and hiked the Trail of 100 Giants.

I am pretty sure we looked something like a school field trip.

17 kids in our little group.

We made sure not to go anywhere where we would surely die.

Now that we've gotten our fresh, mountain air, 

gotten dirty enough to last another year,

and eaten way too many s'mores,

I think we are ready to hunker down and start school this week.

Father's Day

Do you want to know what Father's Day pictures are supposed to look like?

But do you think I have more than one picture like this?

Of course not.

Obviously I wouldn't even be writing this post if I just had a bunch of mushy 

Father bonding pictures.

Let's talk about how Father's Day really went down.

We walked around the corner to this little field because it was one of those Sunday's.

You know the ones.

What??!!  It's only 3:28?

It feels like 11pm.

I said something like that at least 4 times.

I thought I would take some fun pictures of the kids playing with their Dad.

Well...I got one.

But I also got

Aubrey re-enacting a Baywatch scene.

Why is she in a swimming suit you ask?

I'm not really sure, but she prefers to go commando 

so we thought this was an improvement.

Even if the swimming suit is a size 6-9 months.

Bradley trying to remove the dog poop that had just squished between his toes.

Jack snarling at Brooklyn because he never gets to hold the cat.

I can't imagine why since he had just chased the cat into the bushes...

 about 18 times.

Brooklyn finally recovering from crying for 30 minutes 

because Jack kept chasing her cat into the bushes.

And yes, that is a real cat.

Seriously the nicest, most docile cat I've ever met.

Good thing too.

Or she probably wouldn't have lasted around here.

Something about being mothered to death.

And here's our best attempt at a little group picture.

Plenty of personality.

I'm pretty sure Jack has his eye on the cat again.

Look at that devilish grin...

And then I snatched one of Aubrey

 right after Mona had slobbered all over her face.

She definitely reacts much differently than I would if I had just had that giant tongue all over my face.

I mean look at that thing!

Mona can practically lick her own eyeball!

Bleck!

We enjoyed getting out and getting some fresh air.

And I enjoyed having my little helpers 

helping me prepare dinner and dessert for Dave.

(Even though they are a little scary with the beaters...)

I am sure grateful for Dave.

Thanks to our children we share a very lively and wonderful life.

I picked a good one, folks!

Potty Training

Potty Training.

Something I find to be about as much fun as a poke in the eye.

Actually I'd way rather have a poke in the eye.

Like 50 of them.

I'm just no good at it.

I only have the stamina of about 30 minutes.

I basically just want to show them how to do it and then have them independently take care of it after that. 

That's not too much to ask, is it?

Well I've been in the trenches with the littlest one.

And it definitely hasn't been a 30 minute visit.

She was doing great (easiest one yet!)

but it seems that we are moving backwards lately.

It's been going something like this...

[Aubrey waddling in]

"Mama, I pooped!"  (with genuine enthusiasm)

"Where did you poop, Aubrey?"

(pointing to her adorable little buns)

"Ummmmm...in mine underwear."

Sigh.

"Aubrey........Where does poop go?"

"Ummmmm...in mine underwear?!"

Toilet, Aubrey. Toilet.

T.O.I.L.E.T.

My stamina has certainly waned, but seriously, 

I absolutely refuse to follow the child around all day waiting for the face.  

Why must this be part of the parenting deal?

I'm sure there is some lesson in perseverance or patience that I am supposed to be learning here,

but all I am finding is that I stare longingly at the diapers when I pass them in Target.

Anyone else out there thinking that it was a whole lot easier to change a few diapers everyday??

Meanest Mom

The Meanest Mom Ever.
Isn't that a title that all of us Mother's secretly strive for?
We stay up at night plotting ways to torture our children.
I know I definitely do.
You know what else I do?
I make sure that there is a lunch packed for my kids everyday.
Go me.
Well last week Jack walked off and forgot his head lunch.
I saw it sitting there on the table shortly after he left for school.
Well naturally our school system won't let him starve when he forgets his lunch.
So he came home with a $2 bill for the hot lunch he ate that day.
Right next to it was a big smile on his face telling me all about the pizza and milk and cookie.
Not so fast, Mister.
I told him that since I had already paid for a lunch for him that he would have to earn the money to pay back the cafeteria for his hot lunch.
And do you know what it takes to earn 2 bucks around here?
We really don't pay well.
I marched him to the backyard, threw a few bags of mulch in the wheel barrow
and helped his little twig-let arms push that thing all over the yard.
Then he had to dump the bags and spread the mulch around the perimeter of our backyard.
(Which looks lovely, by the way)

He may or may not have been doing a bit of grumbling.
Which I cheerfully (and maybe a little bit sarcastically) responded with something about how delicious that lunch was.
Which really wasn't nice.
In the end he told me that I was THE Meanest Mom ever
because no other kids have to work for their lunch.
All my planning and hard work has paid off!
Do you think he has forgotten his lunch since?
Nope!
But Brooklyn has.
Her torture had something to do with weeds and dog poop.

Brooklyn's Trip to Conference

Brooklyn recently had an experience of a lifetime.

Her grandparents acquired sweet tickets to general conference.

And (because they are awesome) they decided that since Brooklyn is now old enough to go into the Conference Center, that it would be a wonderful experience for her.

Lucky for us, she had her own camera, so we get to see her experience through her eyes.

Brace yourself.

There were many "selfies" to choose from.

I thought this one was particularly charming.

You'll have to excuse her, she was a teeny weeny bit excited.

Also understand that I only had about 5 zillion pictures from this trip to choose from.

Sheesh, I really wish she would have given me a bit more selection.

 In my in-laws true fashion, they nearly saw the entire state of Utah in 2 days.

This Is The Place Monument

 Pioneer Village

(And further proof that she was there with her grandparents...pony rides?  Yep, definitely with her grandparents.)

 She was super pleased with her stilt-walking abilities.

There never was a happier girl than the one petting stinky goats.

 Do you think they would have let me stay for free?

One of Brooklyn's favorite things is to have her Grammy tell her all about the day she was born.

About how we were all waiting, (and waiting and waiting) for her to come out.

She (along with who knows how many concourses of children) was born in

As part of this trip, her grandparents took her on a little personal history tour.

This is the  hospital where she was born.

The stadium where I may or may not have roasted a few times.

And here was our humble abode.

Apartment #6

She was probably frightening some poor young mother.

Like there was some private investigator taking pictures of her apartment or something.

 And of course, no trip to Provo would be complete without a trip to the Creamery.

The little punk called me while she was eating this...just to rub it in.

I told her to eat some extra for me, but I never quite got the satisfaction I was looking for.

 She also got to visit her Great-Grandfather & Grandmother's grave.

She was sad that she didn't have any flowers to leave so she found a feather to lay by their grave. 

 After all of this activity, it was time for General Conference!

She loved being able to go inside the Conference Center.  

Aaaannnddd...she loved the cake that she said was as big as her head.

Wait!  Was she with her grandparents?

Oh yes, yes she was.

Spoiled rotten, she is.

That looks like what I would like to eat for lunch everyday.

I am so grateful that Brooklyn got to have this experience.

I truly believe that it was life changing for her.

When I picked her up, she was telling me all about the trip (for the whole 1.5 hours home.)

At one point she started tearing up and told me that she had no idea that Conference would be so amazing.

 (That giant dude is totally photo bombing my picture)

And it looks like Brooklyn is floating...

I was happy to have my girly back, 

but I am very thankful for these two for making that experience possible.

It takes an entire village to raise a child - 

and I'm really, really happy to be in the same village as these two.  :)