Funny Kids

Guest Post – Catherine

Catherine and Grant are some of our favorite people. Maybe I should say Grant and Catherine are some of our favorite people? Grant wouldn’t like being referred to last. He has an ego to feed. Grant happens to be LG’s cousin. He is Uncle Dirk’s offspring. Therefore, my kinship is as strong as LG’s.

For her guest post, Catherine has a cute little story to share. I hope none of you will take it as sacrilegious. You know how we love our Savior Jesus Christ. But when you love Him and teach your children about Him, you are bound to get a few funny stories.

Dakota was playing dress up and comes out with an off the shoulder outfit.
Here is how it goes:
Me: Dakota that’s not modest.
 Her: Jesus wear outfits like this. 
Me: He does? 
Her: “Yeah remember the picture where he got cut in the boob??” 
Me: Oh yeah, that’s right! and I had to laugh!


And I had to laugh too. That’s why I begged Catherine to do this guest post. Aren’t you glad I did? Kids say the darndest things.

mac N cheese
Me to Abigail: Abigail, let me take a picture of you making mac n cheese.
Abigail: Why?
Me: Because I want to show people how you make it.
Abigail: Why?
Me: I don’t know.
Abigail: (walking away) Nobody cares about how I make mac n cheese mom.
Me: Yes they do. Are you cooking that too long? Or do you like it kind of soggy?
How do you like your mac n cheese anyway?
Abigail: I like my mac n cheese hot. (as she gives me that look)
Me: Hot? Do you mean hot like you or hot like a high temperature?
Abigail: (laughing as she puts the box of mac n cheese between me and the camera.)
Feliz Cinco De Mayo – the day of the hot sauce. Hot as in caliente.

Speak up Sophia.

Sophia is our quiet child. She is our low maintenance child. I am always worried that I am not giving her enough attention because to be quite honest, in a crazy house like mine, she is a breathe of fresh air. She is so easy to raise. I would never make the mistake of calling her perfect because nobody is perfect, but as far as being her mom, she is really really easy. She doesn’t require much but some food and water. Heck, she is lower maintenance than our dog. She is definitely quieter than our dog. She rarely barks. She noticed her picture and came over to read what I was writing. She says, “I do not bark.”

Well, I’ve blogged before about a big oops with Sophia. These slip ups seem to be happening more regularly. Just the other day I found myself at Walgreen’s purchasing lemon heads and chocolate ice-cream to say I was sorry for missing her school program. My husband was having a crisis and his brother stopped in on his way through town to say good-bye before we moved. With all the drama, I totally spaced that I was supposed to go to her day program to make up for the night before when I was at Abigail’s school program that took place at the exact same time. I don’t know how single moms do it; my hubby and I have to divide and conquer all too often. Well, I cried to Sophia, apologized profusely, promised to watch the video, and cautioned her that she may as well learn now that nobody is perfect and she is gonna be let down. I told her that there was only one person that would never let her down. And she said that she knew that. I said, “Well, who then?” She replied, “Jesus Christ.” Very good. I am not totally failing as a parent.

Unless you count what happened at church couple of weeks back. Sophia was assigned to give a talk to the other kids. I totally forgot. In my defense, I told Sophia on Saturday to remind me that evening and she forgot too. On the way to church on Sunday morning, I told Sophia we would just tell her leaders that we forgot or the other option was for Sophia to find a scripture to share during the first hour and just give a brief testimonial about it. Well guess what? In between the drive to church and the hour after the first meeting got out, I forgot again.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Sophia comes up to me after the three hours of church and tells me she was so embarrassed for her talk. Hard slapped open face palm to forehead kind of moment. And then I may as well have slapped myself across the face too for being such an awful mom. I apologized and asked her what she did. She said she just got up and talked and that Daddy had come to watch. What? Why didn’t daddy rescue her? They didn’t come and get me because I was teaching the women’s class, but they did go and fetch LG from the man’s class. He, of course, had no idea about all of the above on-goings and walked into the Primary room figuring that I had taken care of it.

As we talked about it on the way home from church, LG was a doting father. He said that she pulled it off rather well. She pretty much just rambled about how she knows the Bible to be the true word of God. (I would say that has to count for something that she even knew on her own to talk about such a serious topic). LG then went on: She then clammed up and got quiet. She turned her head to the side and whispered to the Primary leader, “I am so embarrassed.” The kids heard. They chuckled. It lightened the moment, and she was able to finish it out.

Sophia had succeeded in filling her alloted time. LG was proud. The primary children had been entertained. The primary leader had been fooled into thinking that Sophia was overcome by the Spirit of God, but just for a second until Sophia proclaimed her embarrassment. I was left once again hoping to improve as a mother, but overall I count it a success. Mostly because our whole family laughed consistently for an hour after church while Sophia retold the experience over and over again.

I am pretty sure that the next time she has a talk, she won’t forget to remind me to help her. Or and this is a big OR the next time Sophia will tell her Primary President she dropped the ball OR the girl is gonna get pretty good at winging it. It’s not like we haven’t given her plenty of opportunity for practice.

Not so glee

I have this problem.
I can hardly admit it.
It’s an addiction that a Mormon doesn’t like to talk about.
We try to keep it in the closet as much as possible.

Once in a while it just comes bursting out though.
I need to rid myself of the guilt.
The Glee induced guilt.
It doesn’t feel glee.

Yesterday I was sitting watching the show after school.
Hulu is my best friend, ever since Caroline lost our digital converter remote.
The girls gathered around.
I always get nervous about this.
I know I shouldn’t let them watch such trash.
This episode was particularly trashy.
I try to justify saying it gives us an open communication
about the evils of today’s world.

Well the show was all about under-aged drinking.
Just as the girls gathered around,
the main characters were gathering at a party.
Before I knew it, they were all drinking heavily
and doing stupid things associated with intoxication.

I said, “See kids, this is why Dad and I won’t allow you to go to parties where there is drinking.”

Later, Bella wandered off for an after school snack.
As she came walking back towards our TV viewing via PC,
she immediately noticed that the characters
had advanced to drinking at school.
Without missing a breathe, she hollars,
“See Mom, this is why you shouldn’t allow us to go to school.”

The Snow Blues
After a month of almost consecutive snow days and Winter Break,
this mom is officially in Cabin Fever mode.
I even pulled out my old gowns as a new point of interest.

I have been in a foul mood.
I am not sure quite why.
It’s a combination of things, I am sure.
The lack of sunshine.
My house being at 60 degrees to conserve cash.
The cooking three meals a day,
EVERY day.
O.k. I’ll be honest:
no breakfast
just lunch dinner and the 4th meal.
The daily routine of
Wizards of Waverly Place, Hannah Montana, and Cake Boss
should be envious.
(And just for the rest of you moms who are trying to survive
with a Netflix membership
because the remote
to the digital converter went missing ages ago
and you don’t have any real T.V.
the last of those three shows is the winner of
Best Entertaining TV)
And there’s nothing like a really long
run-on sentence to express the true sentiment
of my last month.
I’ve been dreaming of going to Carlos’ Bakery
for a warm lobster tail or crumb cake.
Of course, in my dreams,
I am decked out fashionably
with my hair done, make-up on, and nails brightly painted.
I guess if my mind really had some imagination
I should have been wearing a Miley wig
and some Wizard glasses.
Because that is what the kids would find entertaining.
But, in my dreams,
I am all alone.
Go figure.
And then I sit to blog.
Because maybe it will help me find myself.
Or at least pull me out of this mood.
And I stumble upon this old photo:

and I remember how awesome my kids are.
And how fast they grow.
And then the smell of a poopy diaper
brings me back to my senses.
Just as Caroline goes flying off the bottom of treadmill.
And for the millionth time
with my kids
we laugh.
And I think
it’s too bad
their teachers don’t get to
see them at their best.
And I tell myself
to embrace these snow days.
Because even though the days go by so very slow.
The years fly by.
And, next winter,
if I am lucky
The Tennessee weather God
may bring no snow at all.
But of course,
by then I may be living in South Dakota.
And LG will still be saying,
“Oh, but this is still nothing
compared to the Winter of ’88.”
And I will no longer wonder how my mom survived
with seven children
because I will be longing
for my childhood
in
Southern California.
Where snow days
don’t exist.

By Their Fruits (or Gifts) Ye Shall Know Him

For the past year, I have prayed like never before. It has been the hardest year of my life.

Since I was 20, I have felt very secure in my choice of religion, but during the past year I have found myself questioning. I guess most people would if given my circumstances. I felt faithless and I have been ashamed of myself.

Nonetheless, I have persevered in prayer. I have remained obedient, even when I felt like my prayer wasn’t being answered. I kept asking God to reaffirm my faith. I love God with all my heart and I would never want to dishonor Him by following an untrue path. But, for months I felt like He wouldn’t answer my prayer. I wasn’t sure why.

The other night Sophia kept ringing a jingle bell and we asked her to stop because she was driving us crazy. She said ever so nonchalantly while ringing the bell to her own ear instead of ours, “What? I don’t hear anything. Remember, we don’t believe in Santa. This should not be annoying you.” Thank you Polar Express.

Well, lately, I have felt like a non-believer. No matter how much I wanted to hear the bell jingle, it just wasn’t working. Others will say that it’s not true because I have always believed, but really, I wasn’t hearing what I felt like I should be.

Well, tonight I wouldn’t be more convinced of an answer to prayer if God himself arrived on my doorstep.

It has been said that God does his mighty works through other people.
It has also been said that “by their fruits, ye shall know them.”

Well, this Christmas, the works have come. And they keep coming. I can’t make them stop.

We have had so many anonymous gifts left at our door, that I have completely lost track. We have also had friends who have tried to pretend that their kids just wanted to get our kids something for Christmas. We have had other friends bring stockings fully stuffed for every one of our children. Every gift has been equally thoughtful and equally appreciated. It has been totally humbling, yet wondrous to behold.

The climax of the giving came the other night when while one friend was making a delivery, another friend doorbell ditched with more gifts and a gift-card.

Tonight, was the clincher for me. Someone left us a bag of multiple gift cards and some treats. They left us $40 in Chuck E Cheese bucks, a $50 movie card, and $50 to our favorite local used book store. My kids were going absolutely nuts. It’s been a hard year for them too, and this was just too much at once. It was like Christmas wasn’t even big enough to contain their excitement.

I had to walk back out to the van to cry. I didn’t want my family to see me lose it.
And lose it, I did. I poured my heart out to God and thanked Him with all my might.

I thanked Him for His love, and for watching over us. I thanked Him to be surrounded by such wonderful friends. And I mostly thanked Him for finally giving me my answer.
If my church wasn’t true, why would the people I surround myself with have such wonderful works?

Now, I also know that I have some wonderful Non-Mormon friends who may have been part of this Gold Christmas miracle, and for them I am also grateful. But, tonight, while I read the card with the aforementioned gift, I knew God was telling me that He has let me struggle, so that He could show forth His power, which lies in the people’s hearts…His love is a living force for good.

And let me tell you something. That love and power is described as light because there is no other way to describe it. It’s warm. It’s invigorating. It’s mighty. It’s the giver of life. It’s all-encompassing. The only way to receive it, is to let it consume you.

And after the crappiest year ever, and the months and months of prayers of mighty supplication, I all of the sudden found myself surrounded by the light. In fact, I was the light. In every direction I looked, all I could see was good. All I could see was love. And all I could see was the face of God. With a smile. It seemed to say, “I’m so proud of you for sticking in there Alice. Now go to Chuck E Cheese and enjoy some downtime.”

Oh, and, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Lesson With a Flair

Abigail has been making dinner on Sunday nights.

I got really stressed about her learning to cook before she goes to college.
I am not sure why since that is at least 7 years away,
but it’s all good since it gets me out of dinner duty on Sunday.
Abigail loves to search the cookbooks for something.
She is completely opposite from me.
I like to cook the same thing over and over again
so I don’t have to refer to a recipe.
Anyway, last Sunday, Abigail found a recipe for
Chicken Catchatore. Or however you spell that.
I have never made it before, how would I know.
We decided to tweak the recipe a bit
because we don’t shop on Sunday
and we didn’t have all the required ingredients.
However we did have ginger.
Abigail wanted to add it.
LG kept saying to add more.
I told him that ginger is really strong
but he wanted more.
We ended up chopping and sauteeing
what Abigail calls
a whole leg of ginger.
About an eighth of a cup.
We fried it up with garlic and onion
and the diced tomatoes
and added some spinach
and then added the leftover Thanksgiving turkey.
And Abigail declared proudly to her sisters
that we would be eating
turkey catchatore with a flair.
I said, “One big flair of ginger,”
as I secretly added some brown sugar and milk
to lighten up the overwhelming ginger.
Abigail and Bella then got into it
about what kind of noodles were being served.
Abigail assured Bella that they were linguine.
Bella argued back, like she had some kind of authority in the matter
knowing full well that Abigail was
the one to fetch the noodles from the box.
Before I knew it, Abigail and Bella were having it out
about noodles.
I then hollered,
“Fine, you are both right
the noodles are NOT linguine,
from now on in our house
they will be called:
‘Love one Another, who gives a crap what kind of noodles they are’ “.
End of story.
As we ate Bella says,
“So we are having
Turkey Ginger Catchatore over ‘Love One Another, who gives a crap kind of noodles they are.”
And Sophia in typical Sophia fashion.
Always with perfect timing
and always keeping the peace
says “with a flair.”
So from now on, our noodles will remain nameless
(don’t they all taste the same anyway)
and anything that has ginger in it
will be with a flair.
And I call that one productive Sabbath.

Ish

Sophia started another new vocabulary word.
I told you before about
We’ve been using it for a while.
We’ve also been using
Ish.
It means kind of, nothing exciting, mediocre, in the middle,
or I am not really sure what to say right now.
It’s a noun, verb, and adjective all in one.
How was that ski lift?
Ish.
Were you scared?
Ish.
What would you call a ride like that?
Ish.
How old is this picture?
Ish.
Implement it.
It’s a perfect word.
Perfect-ish.
Shortened to ish.