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. 

Jog-A-Thon

I know it's the beginning of the school year -

because the school is holding a bazillion fund raisers.

And now that I have two kids in school...

Dave may have to get a second job.

But, for my small donation, I was thoroughly entertained today.

The annual Jog-A-Thon basically consists of 60 kids (by grade level)

running around barriers in a field. 

They have to run for an allotted amount of time

and each time they pass "GO,"  they collect a Popsicle stick from their teacher.

At the end they count up the sticks and the parents fork out the cash

based on the number of laps the child completes.

Sounds simple enough, right?

You know, like simply non-competitive?

Well, uh, someone forgot to inform Jack.

Was that supposed to be my job?

Here's a recap in pictures.

Jack walks out of his classroom beaming. 

He's seriously bouncing around like a little jumping bean. 

Then just before the race, he flashes me a wink. 

You know, the wink that secretly communicates,

"I've got this race in the bag!"

They line up at the finish line and say "Go!"

And, as I predicted, my slightly competitive son darts out in front of the pack.

This is around the first bend.

As I was watching him I thought to myself,

"Self:  you probably couldn't keep up that pace for 10 minutes."

Maybe I should work on that...

After the race he came strutting over to me saying what else but,

"Mom, I won!" 

"I was the fastest kid!" 

"And I got 9 Popsicle sticks!"

"And nobody got 10!"

And believe it or not, he's been repeating those phrases all day.

I was very proud of him for his hard work, and it was so fun to watch him,

but I'm trying to figure out how to tame that ego.

Even though I am sure the teachers love him bragging about his sweet skills.

You know, the sweet skills that he obviously got from his mother.

Speaking of his mother, here's a strangely crooked shot of his sister running in her own Jog-A-Thon.

She's being all sweet and lovely and non-competitive.

Just like her mother.

A Kid: Week ?

Oh man, this kid makes me smile.

The Falconer

Aubrey is definitely a special child.

She's positively adorable, sweet, funny, love able, and LOUD.

At first I found this loudness problem to be a bit irritating.

I mean, I know we all love a very high and loud shrill to accompany our dinner,

but one can only take so much.

But as it turns out, I think her "skill" may turn out to work wonders for our self reliance.

We were at a friends house a couple of months back and our friend says,

"Wow - she sounds like a real life falconer!"

I have thought a lot about that comment over the last couple of months and thought to myself,

"I think he's right!  Let's test it!"

Lucky for me, I just happened to have a pile of mice guts

and a pair of bird handling gloves just lying around.

Who doesn't?

I took Aubrey out in the front yard, slipped on a glove, handed her some mice guts

(and of course told her not to eat them) and watched her waddle a few steps away.

She immediately lifted her left arm, belted out one of her annoying impressive shrieks

and wouldn't you know it...

a massive falcon swooped in for a landing, nibbled away on the mouse entrails

and then stopped to pose for a picture.

Which I thought was nice of him -

not just any one-year-old can manage to call in a carnivorous bird.

A mother must document such a milestone.

We'll never starve, I tell you.

Aubrey will call one in and we'll roast it up.

In the meantime, I hope all you mothers out there with your own falconer's

can handle the hours of "bird calling practice."

It just might pay off someday.

*Parts of this story may or may not be fictional.

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.  ;-)

Her Majesty

Aubrey has definitely been our latest walker.

I thought to myself, "What is taking this child so long?"

Not that I was really in that much of a hurry,

I mean, we all know that when the baby starts walking the trouble begins.

But still, there comes a point when you have to wonder.

And wonder I did.

Until I started looking through a few pictures.

Can any of you identify any reason why her walking was a little delayed?

Why walk when you can be pulled, carried or pushed?

Valid point.

She's a smart one, that girl of mine.

That last picture is my favorite.

They get her all cozy like she's a princess in her carriage

and then they slide her across the wood floor.

At dangerous speeds.

It may or may not be a little dangerous, but hey, she loves it.

Therefore it's ok, right?

I should mention though that she has finally decided to work out those little legs.

And if you are going to ask if you can have her -

don't bother.

Unless of course you just want her between the hours of 3 and 5 pm.

Then she's all yours.

Le Artiste'

At the Bowen home, there seems to be something about being three.

Being three and being drawn to Sharpies.

Oy.

Maybe not my favorite thing.

Well, besides potty training that is.

Which we are also experiencing with the little artiste'.

Oh yeah, that's the guy.

I'd know him anywhere.

Beautiful blue eyes, birthmark on his forehead, and mascara on his face.

Wait, what?

Apparently he has expanded his use of art mediums.

And on a side note, doesn't this picture make him look like a Bobble-head?

Seriously, I would love to have that little face bobbing at me while I'm cruisin'.

Ahem....anyway, back to the artwork from the infamous artiste'.

(If you read it with a French accent, it sounds way cooler.)

There were many works of art that I could have chosen to display,

but here is his finest work.

His bedroom door.

At least he makes it personal though, right?

I mean, these pictures clearly aren't meant for just anyone.

He was being very considerate in thinking about what picture

would mean the most to his dear old parents.

He took no less thought when he also got his dresser,

my kitchen counters,

my kitchen cabinets,

his bedroom carpet,

his baby sister,

aaaand the interior of my in laws car.

Naughtiness.

 I know what you're thinking.

Uh, Hello! 

PUT.THE.MARKERS.UP.HIGH.

But you guys don't know what I am up against. 

We are talking about a

gold-medalist-climber-part-ninja-child

who can create an extraordinary mess without making a sound

and can look (and act) incredibly adorable and innocent.

I mean, he's so good that you don't know the damage is done

until after you've already given him a cookie for being such a good and quiet little boy.

Right.  Quiet.

You'd think that by now I would remember that as lovely as a moment of quiet is,

Ninja + Quiet = 1 box of Magic Erasers and lots of elbow grease

Note to self:  Do NOT give cookies to the small boy without first inspecting the premise.