Aubrey's First Haircut(s)

See that beautiful golden hair?

I love it.

My favorite thing about it is watching it blow behind her when she's running around.

Well...lately, Aubrey hasn't been such a fan of her long, tangled hair.

She doesn't want me to brush it or pull it back.

She basically just wants me to keep my mitts away from her head.

That's a problem when you are two and your hair goes half-way down your back.

I've been debating having it cut for awhile now.

But I just couldn't do it.

So Bradley did it for me.

Eek.

I was cleaning the garage while the children were running wild constructively occupied.

Aubrey was eating a sucker and apparently got it stuck in her hair.

Soooo...Bradley cut it out for her.

Good gravy.

It wasn't horrible, but there were definitely some short pieces in there.

(No pic, sorry.)

At first I decided that we would just roll with it.

It wasn't that noticeable.

But then I looked at her while we were at church and she basically looked like an orphan.

It was the best I could do to get a little clip in to hold it out of her face.

It certainly wasn't the beautiful golden curls pictured above.

Much more like the picture below.

So this morning I took her in for her first "official" haircut.

We had to bring Scooby Doo along on the Ipod because she wasn't a big fan of sitting in that chair.

And I didn't get any pictures of her in her lovely little apron because I was in the chair with her.

But here are the remains of her long hair.

(Well, besides the ones that Bradley already removed.)

I am happy because it will be 100 times easier to take care of.

And look, it still blows behind her when she runs.  :)

Doesn't it make her look so much older?  

Waaaaaa.....where's my baby?

First Day of School

Well, it's over. 

The busiest summer of my existence has come to an end.

Kind of bitter sweet.

I love, love, love having the kids home and being able to take a break from the regular routine,

but yet, I love having a routine so I welcome it when it returns.

To start the year off right I asked Jack to pack his lunch.

Independence is a good thing, I say.

But what does a 1st grader think he needs for lunch?

Nice.

I may have stepped in and helped a little.

With a couple of oh, I don't know, maybe a baggie or two.

And maybe swapped the would-be-petrified-by-lunchtime-tortilla

for a PB&J.

Throw in a few carrots (in a baggie??) and we'll call it a lunch.

Now just take out the creepy Addam's Family hand in the corner and it would be perfect.

Here's our guy headed off to 1st grade.

Unbelievable.

You see, my heart breaks just a little bit at the beginning of the school year.

My little people off growing up.

I get a little sentimental.

Until I drop off  "Mr. I've got this."

He reminds me that he's got the situation well under control.

He's ready to lead the way to his classroom and rule the school.

You go, dude.

Just put your bowl in the sink on the way out.

Brooklyn however, embraces my sentimentality (is that a word??)

She's excited for a new year, but is also a teeny bit nervous.

Unlike her brother, she wanted me very close by as she approached her new classroom.

The difference in their body language and expressions in the pictures above tell the whole story.

She will be just fine though - she's got a whole classroom full of friends

and by the look of that stack of books, lots to learn.

I'm positive that by the time I pick her up this afternoon 

she will be bouncing around excited about the upcoming school year.

Our biggest problem this morning happened on the way out.

Poor Bradley couldn't understand why he couldn't go to school with the kids.

If you look closely you can see a big alligator tear running down his cheek.

He starts preschool next week, but he was heartbroken that he wasn't staying at the school today.

If he had had any idea how sad I was feeling for him he could have asked for 

3 banana splits and a pony and I probably would have given it to him.

He settled for a trip to the library and a popsicle.

Here's to a wonderful school year!

Scars

You know, I have never had to have stitches due to an accident.

And I'm turning 30.

My boys however have already managed to acquire a few battle scars.

Are boys just genetically wired to injure themselves?

Yes, I think they must be.

Here's our latest wound story.

The kids were in the backyard playing while I was on the phone and 

Dave was planning Family Home Evening.

My conversation was interrupted when Dave asked if I'd like to have Bradley stitched up.

Wait, what?!

I came downstairs to find Bradley crying and bleeding.

Definitely not a good combination.

I checked out the cut and decided that since it was on his face and laying wide open that we better take him in to have it checked.

[Insert groan]

As it turns out Bradley basically hit the jackpot.

He got to stay up late, eat popsicles and play Angry Birds.

Oh and get his forehead smeared with glue.

He had the nurses ooing and ahhing and nearly got his parents reported to CPS.

Apparently when Bradley says, "Jack hit me" it sounds a lot like "Dad hit me."

Dave stepped in and cleared that one up.

Yeesh.

Dave says that amongst "the special people" also at the ER last night that Bradley was kind of like a little breath of fresh air so the nurses kept watching him and laughing about his funny little personality.

Bradley sat in his assigned chair in the waiting room with his shifty little eyes looking around wondering what exactly was going on. 

One of the nurses came up and asked Dave if Bradley was always this good at home.

Before Dave could say anything Bradley replied with his simple, "Yes."

Riiight.

He ALWAYS sits so perfectly still, doing exactly what he should.

The story I am putting together is that Jack was making it rain by filling up a glass cereal bowl with water and then throwing the water into the air.

Apparently the bowl slipped out of Jack's hand, flew through the air and broke on Bradley's head.

Seriously?

Brooklyn (the Rockstar) said she pulled a chunk of bowl out of Bradley's forehead.

Have I ever mentioned what a wonderful Mother she will make one day?

So instead of having a lovely lesson on Baptism for Family Home Evening, 

we talked about how we don't throw bowls at people's heads 

and made get well soon cards for the victim.

Which lovingly included a drawing of a frightening looking ET character.

Complete with a brain.

(Jack claims that it was a sitting red chameleon...random) 

In the end, we are very grateful that it was nothing worse.

A $300 glob of glue is about all we can take.

San Francisco

Dave had a training in San Francisco,

so the family (including Grandma) decided to tag along.

First stop was to pick up a nice family friendly vehicle.

Oh wait.

Actually we just went into the Ferrari store to make the workers (and me) nervous.

Considering I probably can't even afford that bitty thing in the left corner...

We really just had one day to explore the city so we decided not to go home with wicked buff legs from walking all of the hills and opted for the overpriced trolley day pass.

Thankfully, it was worth the dough because the kids enjoyed that as much as most anything else.

Except for Bradley who appears to be seriously concerned about whomever is sitting next to him.

Our first stop was Pier 39 which proved that there were actually people under the age of  18 years old somewhere in the city.

I had previously considered giving each of the kids little collection cups 

because it felt like we turned more heads than half of the street performers.

1...2...3...4...

Are they ALL yours?!

We stopped for this photo for Jack since he's such a shark lover

and ended up being brainwashed educated by a super crazy hippie lady.

Save the Earth my friends, save the Earth.

Here we are trying not to gouge out the eyes of any unsuspecting sting rays.  

Then grandma whipped out her "grandma's can spoil kids, but mother's can't" card

and decided to take the kids on the 2 story carousel.

Which basically made their day.

Then she bought them ice cream cones.

Which I probably never would have done.

Those kids are pretty darn lucky that grandma came along.

After all, life is always considerably more enjoyable with grandparents around.

Someday I will be one.

Then I will buy carousel tickets, ice cream cones and popcorn at Target.

But until then

my kids will have to suffer with squished PB&J and water bottles.

The real highlight of my trip was

*drum roll please*

The Bushman.

He is a street performer who basically sits behind a bunch of bush clippings.

Waits for unsuspecting by-passers.

And then scares the daylights out of them.

Hi-lar-i-ous

Seriously.

This guy was Dave's favorite memory from SF as a child,

and always talks about "the bushman."

So we naturally had to hunt him down.

And it was worth the hunt.

I'm pretty sure I could have just set up a chair to sit and watch all day.

He did give Bradley a little scare as we passed.

Which explains the concerned look on his face.

Later that evening we took a stroll through China Town.

(Oh Hi Dave, thanks for joining us.)

Crazy place, that is.

We walked all the way there for delicious...

pizza.

Shameful, isn't it?

But hey, when you want to make sure that everyone eats...

you take the safe route.

As we walked home we passed a cute little park

which looked terribly out of place in the middle of the city.

We bounced them on the springy teeter totter

and let them run around on the fairly pathetic toys.

And what do you know?

We spend the whole day providing them with all kinds of new experiences

and they are really just as happy at a fairly frightening inner city playground.

Go figure.

Happy Easter

Easter.  What a great holiday.

A day to celebrate the more important things in life.

And...attempt to take a picture of our little ones in their classy Easter outfits.

Here's how it went down at our house this year.

The girls (at first) happily obliged.

I told Brooklyn to kneel next to Aubrey,

which made Aubrey kneel. 

So Brooklyn stood up,

and then Aubrey stood up.

So...they both sat down.

The boys on the other hand were a bit more "challenging."

Bradley, who always marches to the beat of his own drum, was following his own agenda
and couldn't wait a moment longer to get out of those restricting clothes.
(And parade through the front yard in his underwear)
His only problem was that darn top button.

Jack was being...
well, Jack.
He decided that if I was going to make him take an Easter picture
that he would sit on my plant and make a big pouty face.
I'm sure his grandchildren will enjoy this one someday.

While I was trying to convince Jack to cheer up (and get off of my plant)
Dave was chasing down the runaways.

Seriously?  Why does every picture moment have to turn into a 3-ring circus?
I was just about to give up and go inside
when the Heaven's opened and they all sat down together.
[Insert Hallelujah chorus]

Sure, Bradley has no tie or pants and Jack looks like he's in pain,
but hey, they are all in the picture, all looking at the camera, and all basically smiling.
I'd say that for this family, it's kind of an Easter miracle.

This n That

Nothing too excited going on around the old homestead these days.

Just a little of this and a little of that.

But the everyday happenings are worth documenting, right?

First of all, the parent's in this house have finally given in to an extracurricular activity.

We've been kind of dragging our heels because
A) we like not having to be 1 million places,
B) it's expensive, and
C)  our kids were blissfully unaware that they were missing out on anything.

Sounds like the perfect conditions to pull a quick one, eh?

We thought so too.

But, I have finally decided that it is time to branch out a bit and try to "round out" these kids of ours.

And I'm quite glad I did. 

I feel like I've graduated to some new level of parenting.

For now, I smile as I hear small successions of notes
(over and over again)
while I am preparing dinner.

Soon I will not smile as I threaten to remove her left arm if she doesn't practice.

It's all part of the joys of parenting, right?

She is cute sitting up there with her make-shift piano.

And she totally staged this picture,

but wanted to make sure that it didn't look like she staged it.

That's a Motherhood Lesson 101 course in itself.

Making it look like you "caught them in the moment."

Even if you and I both know that you likely tortured the kid
and made them re-do that special moment at least 6 times just for the perfect picture.

She's ahead of her time.

~~~~~~~

Around here the blossoms are in full bloom (achoo!) and spring has definitely arrived.

Which means that the gardener at this house has to get to work!

He painstakingly spent a billion years building that beautiful

self watering garden box.

He has planted his little plants and takes great pride in whatever is growing in there.

He comes home from work and stands out there with his hands on his hips
just willing those precious little plants to grow.

And then he asks me which child put the tire marks through the garden

and whose "bum print" he can see.

I've already got 4 of them to watch,

I can't possibly babysit the garden too.

If those plants are going to grow around here,

then they better be tough.

~~~~~~~

Speaking of tough...

What does she think she is doing?

Oh ya know, just playing naked outside in the water bowl in February!

Sheesh.

I'm running around with a fleece jacket (cause I am a wimp)

and she's running around in nothing.

And for the record, it was the dog who left the "bum print" in the garden, not Aubrey.

~~~~~~~

About a month ago we got a letter in the mail that basically has ruined my entire last month.

It said something like this:

"Because we are mean, we want you to get rid of your trampoline

and only allow your kids to sit on little pillows in the corner.

Love, your Home Insurance Company"

Boooo on them.

I LOVE the trampoline.

My kids LOVE the trampoline.

And I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it when Dave takes them out to jump while I am making dinner.

What kind of American family will we be without a trampoline?

I seriously might shed a tear.

And then put in a zip line from the second story into the neighbors pool.

See what the insurance company thinks of that one.  :)

~~~~~~~

On a serious note,

last week we had to say goodbye to our beloved and cute little Grandpa Bowen.

He was Jack's birthday buddy and was nearly 96 years old!

This guy was only about 5 feet tall, but was at least twice that in personality.

He was a darling little man with sparkly blue eyes.

We'll miss him,

but we are thrilled that he has been reunited with so many loved ones on the other side.

Potty Talk

I'm so behind on everything it seems. 

Or at least not finding the time to do everything  that I want to. 

Like post on my blog.

I think my new calling sucks all the creativity I have.

I've always been afraid of this calling.

That "Primary Chorister" calling.

But as it turns out, I haven't died.

Who knew?

The kids haven't thrown rotten tomatoes at me or requested that I please stop singing.

Hooray!

But still, my normal blogging time is being spent searching the right hemisphere of my brain
(and the internet)
for ways to frighten teach the kids.

And when I am not traumatizing other people's kids,

my own are traumatizing me.

Potty training.

Ugh.

Isn't there a summer camp for that?
I'm pretty sure that I am not the only one who would happily write the check for that one.  (Sarah?)

This boy definitely has not made it easy on me.

Just look at that face,

taunting me...

He is almost there though.

Which is a really good thing, because I am was getting desperate.

And a desperate mother is capable of doing absurd things.

Like paying her 7 year old to try and potty train the baby over Christmas vacation because she was just sure that at the rate we were going, the baby would be potty trained before the 3 year old.

10 bucks, she would have made.
And I would have paid more.
Much more.
Wouldn't that have been beautiful?
Too bad it didn't work...
Maybe summer vacation??!!
Brooklyn will have all kinds of time to be tethered to the toilet,
read stories, serve up juice, and just generally rot away in the bathroom.
That should free me up for all kinds of projects.  :)

Holiday Lessons: Part 1

Well, hello there.  I've almost recovered from a wild and fun holiday season. 

Every Christmas season that passes, this mother-of-four gleans a few valuable lessons.  I would like to chronicle these lessons in hope that I may keep you from learning a few things the hard way and/or make you feel better that you aren't the only one....  (I am not the only one....right?)

Ahem.

Sugar Cookies.

Delightful little piles of not-good-for-you but Oh so good stuff. 

Lots of frosting topped with Red Hots is my favorite.

Just in case you wanted to bring me some next year.

Here's how this activity went down at our house.

The Mother (that's me) ran out of time (surprise) and had to cheat and just buy the Pillsbury sugar cookie dough.  

And do you know what?

I'm glad I did.

Because most of these little people lasted only 10 minutes.

So there. 

The eldest child was a champion froster.  She did plenty of finger licking, but she was in it for the long haul which I appreciated because I had no need to frost 4 dozen cookies alone.

Jack could not keep that knife off of his tongue. 

I told him before and plenty times during this process NOT to LICK the KNIFE. 

But really, can you blame him?

It is quite tempting.

Bradley would ONLY use the yellow frosting. 

And for him, just a dab will do. 

He was also awarded the prize for the most consecutive dips in the frosting

with the top of the sprinkles container.

Hold it a little higher there, buddy.

I've just got two words for Aubrey.

HAIR. NET.

Forget the bib, this child needs something to contain that mane.

She did a fine job consuming all that we would allow,

and definitely should not have been standing up in her high chair.

As for the Father - he kept making that furrowed brow/disgusted face.

He was watching those kids and cookies very closely.

As if to memorize who frosted which cookie.

I guess he doesn't like kiddie germs/slobber on his cookies.

As a final piece of advice:
(you'll want to pay attention here)
Be careful where you decide to store your newly frosted cookies.

The oven sounded like a good idea.
Until I preheated it for something else.
At least Bradley didn't find them though!

Greetings from Visalia

Whew - what a month.

Basically, moving is e.x.h.a.u.s.t.i.n.g!

And sometimes (in retrospect) funny.

I mean, I suppose now that it is over,

having baby cockroaches crawl out of my oven when I turned it on was pretty hilarious.

Oh wait, no it actually wasn't.

Pretty much, it was just gross and creepy.

I was going to put a picture on here to give the full effect,

but they all made me squirm,

so you'll just have to imagine those little antennas...

BUT, the bank did have to buy me a new one because of it, so all is well.

And I am certainly not bitter. 

(Even though we only had a microwave to cook with for a month....but I'm not bitter, remember?)

Besides that, I'm spending lots of time painting the house.

Which it seems I shouldn't do.

Why?

Oy.

That would be my laundry room floor.

And in all honesty, I can't even blame that on anyone but myself - and maybe my ladder.

But for the record, cleaning paint out from under a washer and dryer

 is about as much fun as jabbing a pencil in your eye. 

What is fun though, is turning yourself into a human paintbrush.

Really, what are the chances that he could be running, trip,

 and just happen to fall right into my 5 gallon bucket of paint?

For the love, child.

Really though, I think I might blow this one up because it seriously makes me laugh.

This picture really is worth a thousand words. 

Or at least makes you wonder a few things.

Like why do neither of these boys have pants on?!

I'm still wondering about that one...

And where is their mother?

I was painting, of course -

and taking pictures of my paint-up-to-his-shoulder-pants-less-boy.

And his very guilty looking brother...

All Dave said when he saw both of these pictures is,

"I told you not to paint when the kids are around."

He may have a point.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

Guys -  I haven't died.

But I feel like it some days.

Things have certainly been wild lately, but I've missed all my blogee's.

Is that what you would call your blogging buddies?

And to think, all you've had to remember me by is a very blurry picture at the top of my blog.

I promise I'll fix that someday.

Because seriously, it's bugging me.

Which means it's probably bugging you too.

Here's a quick recap.

The Good

We finally found a house to buy.

It was a very long and gruelling (and frustrating!) process.

I think I was about to just sit in a corner somewhere with a bag of Cheetos or something.

But I didn't.

I chose Reese's Pieces instead.

But now that it's all over (almost) I am super excited.

We've been working and saving for a long time for this.

Just ask Brooklyn, we've been wiping with spinach leaves for months.

Uh, was that too much information?

The Bad

I found mouse poop under my bed.

Gross.

I've been obsessive about finding that little varmint.

Dave tells me not to worry about it, that the little guy has probably moved out.

But I'm just sure that he sits and stares at me at night.

Laughing his evil little mouse laugh.

The Ugly

Moving a family of 6 plus a year supply of food takes alot of work and alot of boxes.

Good grief.

When did we get so much stuff?

The poor Elder's Quorum.

They are seriously going to wonder why they are moving 3 zillion boxes marked

"Food Storage."

But it's good because since we just spent our savings on a down payment,

we'll be spending some time knawing on wheat and rice.

And because no post is complete without a picture,

here are my dirty kids tormenting our pig dog.

Next post will be brought to you from the happy land of Visalia.

Disclaimer:  We have not been wiping with spinach leaves (Leslie?!) ...because we've got our year supply of TP...which we will have to move. 

Dad's Do It Different, Part 2

Around here, Dad has some special jobs.

In no order of importance:

1.  The ultimate wrestling buddy. 

I don't particularly enjoy being pounced by 4 children at once.

Dave though, seems to do his best bonding with the kids
while they are puncturing his body with their elbows and knees.

I frequently have to remind the kids that this is definitely

a "Dad job." 

2.  Teaching life's most important things.

Last Saturday morning Dave volunteered

to sit down with Jack to practice sounding out words.

I got them started by writing down a couple of innocent words like

"dog" and "rat."

You know, the basics.

Well, moments later as I am passing by I hear Jack sounding out words

that his Mother definitely would not have chosen.

Seriously?

I guess when you are a 5 year old boy, that word can be kind of important.

But seriously?
I'm pretty sure he won't be seeing that one on his Kindergarten sight word list.

But for the record,
Jack thought it was absolutely hilarious when he figured out what he had read -

and they both laughed like only boys do.

I guess this is why kids have both a Mother and a Father.
So they'll be nice and balanced.
And maybe a little corrupted.  ;-)

Saturday Chores

Being the responsible mother that I am, I repeatedly beat my head against the wall,

uh, I mean,
lovingly teach my children responsibility
by nurturing them through a list of Saturday chores.

Unfortunately, by requiring them to do their chores, I really can't get all of mine done.

I now completely understand why you hear parents say
that it is easier to do something yourself

than it is to make sure the kids do it.

Last Saturday I assigned Jack the job of cleaning the sliding glass door.

At our house, this is the ever coveted job.

There have been many tears shed over not being "the door cleaning chosen one."

But as I watched,

besides seeing large amounts of Windex sprayed,

I realized that I should no longer wonder why that door never looks clean.

Or why there always seems to be a smudge the size of a human head

complete with a nose and mouth.

(Bradley's face kills me)

And I definitely will stop wondering

WHAT TAKES SO LONG??!!

Do you think there are any super cleaning powers that come with that cape?

Oh, and don't mind the naked baby...Saturday is a special day.

Summer Vacation Part 2

During our time in Idaho we headed to the mountains to spend a few days camping,
fishing, and getting absolutely filthy.

There are a few constant things in life.

One of those things is that some people don't mind handling a live fish,
and some people do.

Me? 

Not a fan.

I remember fishing with my dad as a kid and being moritfied
by the thought of touching one of those slimy, wiggly, stinky things. 
Then he'd throw one on the bank and it would flip around when I would walk by.

Bleck.

Definitely not my thing.

But, my little family got their chance to see how they like it.
Here's the report:

Dave: 
He actually enjoyed catching, slicing, dicing and eating. 
All of which I haven't a need.

(But I do think he looks cute and manly out there)

Brooklyn: 

Good grief - she probably gave that thing a little smooch when I turned my back.  :)

Jack: 

Definitely my favorite picture, 

but I have to wonder what us going through his little mind.

My guess is that it's something like, 

"I wonder how Bradley would like this in his sleeping bag?  Bwa ha ha!"

What do YOU think he is thinking?

Bradley: 

Poor Bradley.  His exact words were,

"NO!  NO FISH!  I NO WANT IT FISH!

He didn't mind looking at the fish from afar, but he DID NOT want to touch that thing. 

Of course, you wouldn't either if your brother was sticking it in your face and chasing you with it!

(Look at that dirty face!  Where is his mother?)

Aubrey: 

Well, she was too busy eating dirt to notice,

but she would have likely just poked it in the eye.

But here's a picture of the cutie anyway.