Creepy Moustache Family

The boys went to a new pediatric dentist last week. Jonah loves the dentist (and by "love," I mean gets crazy-hyper like a little poodle when we walk through the door), Sam, not so much. Sam has been to the dentist twice before, and each time he was asked to hop up on the chair, he would suddenly become possessed by some devil and it would take two to three adults to restrain him long enough to "kind of" get his teeth counted. No instruments were allowed. I always thought my insurance company was getting ripped off after those failed appointments.

Since we moved, I decided to find somewhere a little bit closer (even though the old office is only 5 miles away...I prefer less than 2. Have you SEEN the gas prices these days???), and boy am I glad I did. I swear the gals in this new office are "boy whisperers". Not only did they do a thorough cleaning and fluoride treatment without any tears, they got a full set of x-rays to boot. Cue the Hallelujah chorus and descending cherubs! I was relieved, because I swear the last guy (who spent way too much time with the self-tanner and teeth bleaching trays...and that unnerved me) had an asterisk on our chart that said, "DIFFICULT PATIENTS - PROCEED WITH CAUTION." Our new dentist ("Jeff" -- no self-tanner whatsoever) probably noted that my boys were very-well behaved, and that their mother has beautiful teeth. (Because I do. And I showed him.) And aside from that, he most likely threw a couple $$$'s in there for reference because Jonah will require a trip to the orthodontist in the next year for a braces consult which means a happier Christmas for all practitioners involved, and a much more meager Christmas for us.

Each boy was given a coin to use in the toy machine on the way out (like a gumball machine, filled with stuff that will either jam my washing machine or will be found months from now, half-melted under their car seats). Sam was smart and had scoped out the goods prior to his appointment. It was an easy decision -- the faux moustache -- very debonair. When the appointment was over and we went out to redeem his coin, the guy who has the job of replenishing the dental toy machines had been there and was packing up to leave. The moustaches were gone. All the pent up fear and anxiety that Sam had been holding back that morning was suddenly unleashed like a tsunami. Since crying at that decibel level can not be ignored, the toy guy ran up and asked what it was that Sam had wanted. He then proceeded to give Sam not one, but FOUR moustaches. All he had left in his box. Jack pot.

And now we are the Creepy Moustache Family. Who knew facial hair could be so much fun?

Before there were dryers...(or how Eve did her laundry)

One of the things that made Tyler swoon when we first toured this house was it's ridiculously enormous utility room. Its huge. Like, the size of two large bedrooms combined, huge. Personally, I think I'd rather have an extra two bedrooms, but I've found even I am enjoying the huge space that affords us way more storage than the average single family home (which almost makes up for the fact that our entire garage is committed to Whimsy's inventory...if only we could park a car in the utility room).

On one end of the room is both our furnaces and humidifier, the water heater, the washer dryer, Tyler's server/network area, and loads of storage. The other end of the room currently houses three large closets dedicated to food storage, shelving for "stuff," Tyler's tools, Tyler's table saw, a second fridge, and more cubbies for storage. In the middle is a wide open expanse I try not to use as a dumping ground.

A month or so ago, Tyler strung two clotheslines that reach across the room. I {{{LOVE}}} them! I didn't realize how much I'd use them until they were there...and I do. I really do use them. This is something we did not have at the last house (downside of having the washer/dryer in a hall closet), so anything that couldn't go in the dryer ended up being flung over the backsides of chairs and couches. It made the long process of laundry seem even longer and more arduous. Now, I get to hang my air-dry laundry and walk away, closing the door behind me. Who knew such a time-honored practice would feel like such a luxury?

So --

The other day I was cleaning the bathroom downstairs, listening to the boys wander through the house together. They eventually ended up in the utility room. And this is what I heard (coming from a very wise 7-year old voice):

Jonah: "Sam, do you see the rope up there? That's how they used to do laundry in the olden days. Its very old fashioned, you know. A long, long time ago, back when Adam and Eve were still alive, they didn't have dryers, so they had to hang up their clothes on strings. They'd wash their clothes in the washing machine but then they'd have to pull them out and hang them up to dry like that. Can you believe that??? We're really lucky that we have dryers now because if we didn't, it would take so long to dry all our laundry, we'd never have clean underwear to wear! Adam and Eve had a lot of kids so I bet Eve wished she had a dryer like Mom, instead of some string..."

Sam agreed emphatically.


I don't know, though. Seems like a dryer would be pretty far down on Eve's wish list.

Honestly, I bet she would have been happy with toilet paper.

2010 year-in-review

I don't think of myself as being particularly voyeuristic, but I do love hearing about the lives of my family and friends. For this reason, one of my favorite parts about the holidays are the Christmas cards, and more so, the family newsletters/updates that accompany many of them. It seems however, that with our busy lives these days, fewer families are sending out these newsletters. I'm guilty of this myself. This year I felt like I was lucky just to get the stamps on the envelopes (and I thought my head was going to explode waiting for Jonah to lick each envelope...one after another, after another...). There was no way I could muster a family update. But now the holidays are well over, and while you didn't find it in your envelopes this Christmas, you can read our year-in-review right here.

I thought about going through month-by-month so I opened up my trusty calendar, thinking it would be easy to pull out all the brilliant things we did as a family...

Ha.

The first 5 months of the year consisted of nothing more than battling contractors, pulling all-nighters at the D Street house, and for me, working on the weekends. At the beginning of May, we decided that come hell-or-high-water, we WOULD BE MOVING in June. We went so far as to set a date. The date was to be almost 18 months from the day we closed on the house. It was a busy, emotional few weeks as we scrambled to get the house livable. My sweet sister came out to help finish last-minute projects and somehow we were able to pull it together in time. But then we had to pack.

Oh.my.word.

I had been trying to pack unnecessary things here and there, but really, I was spending about 20 hours a week working at the house in addition to my 20-40 hours a week working for my clients, so I hadn't been able to accomplish as much in advance as I would have hoped. I had my last wedding on June 8th and we were scheduled to move on June 12th (and by scheduled, I mean the truck was reserved and the Elders Quorum had us on the calendar). Oh -- and Jonah's last day of kindergarten was on the 8th as well, which meant I had two kids that I needed to pawn off on wonderful friends. So I had three days to pack an entire house PLUS a business. On the 10th, it was pretty obvious I wasn't going to make it. This was tragic since half our work-force (Tyler's family) was only available that weekend. We told his family that we were throwing in the towel, at which point they rallied together and told us we were going to move on Saturday, and they were going to help. My sister-in-law, Maren, was at the house bright and early on Friday, and lo and behold, together we got the entire house packed that day. That evening, Clayton, Kylie, Jordan, Ashley, and Randy showed up to move Whimsy's inventory and coolers. They packed the moving truck to the brim and had it unpacked at the house a couple hours later. The boys were staying the night with my in-laws, and by 3:00 AM, Tyler and I had all the furniture taken apart and we collapsed in our sleeping bags. Everything was ready to go. The next morning, the guys from the ward showed up at 8:30 AM. I decided to take a load of personal stuff to the house at 9:00 AM, and by the time I got back, the truck was loaded. Amazing. We all drove to the house to unload the truck, and I think we had the Elders Quorum done and on their way by 11:30 AM? (One of the wives later told me that her husband said it was the most organized, painless move he's ever been a part of. Best compliment ever!) Our families stuck around to make beds and unpack the bathrooms, kitchen, and pantry, and we had a nice lunch and then sent everyone off around 1:00 PM. I couldn't believe how smoothly it all went. I was able to spend the afternoon unpacking, and even had time to drop off thank-you cards and loaves of bread from the bakery to our moving helpers.

As you can guess, the remainder of our year has been consumed by settling into this house. In addition to our continuing cosmetic projects, we've had some major headaches as well (like the time we were told we needed to replace our main sewer line...a week after we moved in!). But all the same, we love this charming little house, and this quiet little neighborhood.

Other 2010 happenings:

Tyler was promoted to "Clinical Scientist" this year, and shortly after we moved, he also started supervising his lab's evening shift. Can you say awesome?! I live in a world where my husband gets my son ready in the morning, takes him to school, chaperone's every field trip, gladly accompanies me grocery shopping, has time to tinker around the house and work on projects, and allows me to take off at a moment's notice -- child-free. I've been a lucky gal. In September, Tyler crashed his mountain bike on a rocky trail and consequently broke his elbow. He was banged up pretty bad, but that didn't keep him from ripping out and replanting the entire front yard landscaping before he even got the green-light from the doctor to remove his sling. What a [stubborn] stud.

I, on the other hand, remained a slave to my work for the better part of the year. I had an epiphany-inducing experience at the start of the year that really got me thinking about my priorities. I finished out the 2010 commitments to my clients and then chose not to renew all but one of my advertising outlets for 2011. After so many years running this business, its my desire to be more accessible to my children that has prompted me to pull back professionally. We're putting a lot of faith in the Lord that we'll be able to swing this financially. I'll still take a handful of weddings in 2011, but hopefully, Whimsy will now take its rightful backseat to the family. (That's not to say I'm not constantly thinking about new, less time consuming projects to bring in some additional income!) Other not-so-noteworthy things I did: cut my bangs (something I said I'd never do), joined a neighborhood "Joy School" group for Sam (something everyone else said I'd never do), and learned how to make a semi-decent dinner roll (something I never thought I'd do, but I'm still working on that one).

True to the previous 6 years of his life, Jonah's year was an eventful one. He finished kindergarten, learned to ride a bike, shared a room for the first time, kept the Tooth-Fairy in business, started the first grade, turned 7, became obsessed with all things Pokemon, finished the first five volumes in the Harry Potter series, upgraded from his Gameboy to a Nintendo DS, and won his grade's "Reflections" art contest. He's reading from the fifth/sixth-grade reading list at school, and he claims he plays basketball during recess. (What?!) He was diagnosed in early-fall as having ADHD, and we've spent the last part of the year trying to get his medications all squared away. As always, he's been a champ and has maintained a great attitude through it all.

Sam...What to say about this little monkey? He's adorable. Just adorable. And sweet. But stubborn. And hilarious. And exasperating. (Three year olds!) In 2010 he conquered potty-training and started Joy School, developed a fondness for Darth Vader and other villains, and devoted the majority of his time to terrorizing his older brother. He's always dressing up in some costume or another, he loves any and all forms of music, he prefers to always be on the go, and his favorite thing to do (outside of teasing Jonah) is eat. Breakfast, first lunch, snack, second lunch, snack, early-late snack, after-school snack, grazing, dinner, dessert, midnight snack. For Christmas he only asked for an Easy Bake Oven, which he received. He's a crack-up. And thank goodness, Sam is still a squishy little dude, which makes me want to cuddle him constantly...if only he wouldn't squirm so much.


So in 2010 we stayed close to home, but as it turns out, that's exactly where we wanted to be. It was a fun, adventure-filled year, spent in here in SLC. The kind that makes you look forward to years to come.

The Day After

Christmas was glorious this year.

I remember being a child, feeling such pity for my parents who seemed to receive so little by way of gifts. I could never understand how they could be so cheerful when their haul was so small. I totally get it, though. Watching my boys' fulfilled anticipation was better than any gift I have ever received in the past. My only wish was that Christmas came more than once a year (and that I could afford it!).

Missing from our celebration was snow. We did not have a "white Christmas" here in Utah this year. At our home in Salt Lake, it was dry as a bone -- reminiscent of northern California holidays, with a slightly lower temperature. This afternoon the flakes finally started falling, and as a result, we've found a renewed Christmas spirit which we'd like to share with you.

I told the boys I'd give them a quarter if they sung really loud.

I think I may owe them 50 cents instead.

Ghost of Christmas Past

I have friends who dutifully record their children's memories in a journal every week.
I wish I was one of those moms.
I am so not.

To be honest, I don't know what my boys' first words were, when they cut their first teeth, or when they took their first steps. I think in my heart, I wanted to write down every moment, but life is so much more busy and complicated than that for me. I'm sure that after enough therapy, they'll learn to forgive me for the fact that their childhood is a fuzzy, very distant blur, filled with whatever embellished, half-truth stories I can conjure up. Oh well.

Every once and a while, however, I sat down to detail a moment purely for the benefit of the relatives that couldn't be present.

Four years ago this month, Jonah had his first meet-and-greet with good ol' San-ty Claus. It was a highly anticipated event, and one that did not disappoint. I found it amusing, so I wrote down the experience and emailed it (along with some photos) to some extended family.

A few weeks ago we took the boys to visit with Kris Kringle at a church function. Jonah was all business and got right to the point. Sam (who had already had a run-in with Santa at the grocery store) wanted nothing to do with him. I got to thinking about how similar that was to Jonah when he was the same age and went looking for the email. Luckily, one of their great-aunts had held onto and graciously sent it my way.

So now I'll share it with all of you.
Merry Christmas!

************************************

Originally emailed on 12/12/06

This past Saturday was our ward Christmas party. Among our festive activities was a scheduled appearance from Santa Claus. This is the first year Jonah has been aware of Santa, thanks to unrelenting commercialism and media brainwashing. He didn't know much about the big red man, but enough to know he was good -- he jingles when he walks, and he brings presents.

Jonah had been looking forward to meeting Santa at the party -- So much so that it became a frequent topic of conversation during the days leading up to the event. He'd walk around the house bellowing, "Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas eddybuddy!" During one conversation, I told him that most likely he'd sit on Santa's lap and Santa would ask if he'd been a good boy at which point he should reply in the affirmative. He would then probably ask what he'd like to receive for Christmas (to which Jonah emphatically replied, "A binky!" -- I later coached him that he might want to say something a little more big-boyish like a toy car, to which Jonah agreed...). At home Jonah would dialogue with his toys, one pretending to be Santa and the other pretending to be him, with those exact questions and answers. The night before the party there was a lot of bouncing around, with constant reminders that it was almost "party time" and "Santa time."

So of course the day arrives and Jonah is a very excited boy. When we got to the church to set up, he ran through the building looking for Santa. The morning probably dragged on for him as he patiently waited for the moment he was to meet Santa. When it was finally time to trek to the Relief Society room to stand in line, Jonah was a 3-year old on speed. He was running up to random kids, yelling in their faces, jumping up and down, turning around in circles, repeating the rehearsed answers to what he thought would be asked of him ("Mommy! I will say "Yes" and "I would like a big red car, please.")... It was all I could do just to get him to keep his hands to himself. At the point we made it to the front of the line, he was so overwhelmed with excitement he was doing what one might call the "pee-pee dance." And then the moment came. It was his turn. He stepped up onto the platform and...froze. He was gently pushed forward and consented to being placed on Santa's lap, but couldn't find any words to say. He didn't crack a smile. He didn't blink. He didn't look the old man in the eye. He didn't even look ME in the eye! He was void of all emotion. He didn't even react to the uncontrollable laughter of all the other adults in the room who know how out of character silence is for Jonah.

It was all too similar to the Santa mall scene in the classic movie, "A Christmas Story." Only this Santa wasn't an alcoholic and Jonah didn't ever snap out of it long enough to place his gift request.

When he was handed back to me, it took him a few seconds to shake off the...fear? Awe? Numbness? After that, it was as if he'd just hung out with a rock star -- he was elated and ready to tell anyone who crossed his path. It'd be interesting to know what went on in his head during his 30 seconds with Santa. Probably nothing.

Kids crack me up. Enjoy the photos.

Jonah, age 3

Because "things" should be flushed...

Sam just got out of bed for the millionth time tonight to tell me that his "diaper is falling off."

Child, if you are articulate enough to tell me in plain English that you are having an issue with your diaper, you are TOO OLD to be wearing one.

When I write a parenting book, my chapter on toilet training is going to go something like this:

"Remember how you were told that its best to let your child decide when its time to potty-train? THAT'S WRONG. Kids don't know anything. That's why they eat stuff they find in the gutter."

Starting next week, we're getting serious about ditching the diaper.
No - wait - scratch that. Next week won't work. I have two weddings, and there's no way that Tyler (blesshisheart) can be trusted to enforce the rigid, Nazi-like potty schedule that leads to eventual underwear freedom. I guess starting next, NEXT week, we'll be getting serious. Serious-er than I've been able to be this summer, anyway. Any suggestions? Bribes, rewards, charts, and stickers have so far proven to be completely useless and have yielded little more than wasted money, spoiled appetites, and Hot Wheel-induced foot-pad bruises.

I bought a box of 108 diapers from Target today. I'm going to go out on a limb and pledge that it will be my last purchase of diapers for this child. (Pull-ups don't count, though. I'll be darned if this boy thinks I'm going to get up in the middle of the night to change wet sheets.) With the extra $25 I'll be saving each month, I will buy chocolate milk. Lots and lots of chocolate milk. Because after potty-training "Stubborn Sam," by golly, I am going to deserve it.

Photo credit: Target. Not my kid. But the resemblance is amazing...huh?

Shabby Apple Dress Sale!

UPDATE: The sale has been canceled. But I'm keeping this up because by posting about it, I also entered a little contest, and I want to win it!

I'm in search of a dress for a certain family wedding coming up soon. If I can swing it, I'll be attending the Shabby Apple Garden Party dress sale on Saturday. Could I possibly be so lucky as to find an eggplant or green colored dress to fulfill my soon-to-be sister-in-law's request? We shall see. Anyone care to join me?