FunnyBlog

100% Cotton

The touch, the feel: of cotton!
Alright! My last entry, Farts and poops, leads me straight into this one. As you can read, a woman commented that she started her daughter in pull-ups at 17 months, to avoid the plumber’s bum thing. I replied with my philosophy on pull-ups. In a nut shell: THEY ARE A RIP OFF! See the comment if you want to read the numbers involved.

So, I got philsophizing(isn’t that a cool word, I made it up) about diaper duty. I can remember having to take my little brother’s diapers to the toilet to rinse out the poop. What awful memories. When I potty train, I get to relive the grosser than gross ritual of rubbing cloth together to disengage sticky poop from cotton. YUCK!

I just read one mother’s account about Cloth diapers on the internet. All I can say is I can’t disagree with this mother any more passionately. Yes, disposable diapers do fill land fills and they cost a pretty penny ($50/month x 3 years x 3 kids = $5400, not including wipes or diaper medicine or powder)but disposable diapers are worth every penny. That is why the art of cloth diapers is OUT and Kimberly Clark is IN!

Did you know that you can buy diaper coupons on e-bay?

Take it from a mom that knows though….Luvs are the best. You don’t need coupons because they run about $5 cheaper than Huggies or Pampers. And, Luvs are way more absorbant. Wow, I should be paid for my shameless plug.

Well, no matter what kind of disposable enviroment hating diaper you use, it’s ok. Even generic brand are better than cloth. Thank goodness for the diaper baby boom of the 70’s. I should praise the name of the diaper inventor,Marion Donovan, daily! Here was a mother with a head on her shoulders. Did you know her son, James Donovan, M.D, grew up to be a urologist. How funny!

Farts and Poops

This is Bella’s bum trying to fit into her diaper. I love it when the kids have plumber’s bum. So cute! Great shot, huh? I hope it’s not considered “inappropriate”.

Well, Bella has taken on a very endearing ritual. I first need to fill you in on my thoughts about the word “fart”. I thought it would be fun to share, even though my mother will be devastated that I am using the word “fart” so freely. I guess I am not a lady at all because I have never had a problem with the word fart. I mean why do people think the word is so bad? Fart, toot, pass gas, flatulate…they all mean the same action…..air being passed from a not so nice smelling part of the body. Everybody does it. Well, as you read on you will see that I am passing on the non-lady like use of the word “fart” to my three poor daughters. LG and I think it is funny when they say it.

We laughed SO hard the time Sophia announced to a crowded restaraunt that she had farted. Well, in the past two months, Bella, our little clown, has figured out that when she says the word fart it makes people laugh. So, whenever I ask her if she needs to be changed, I say, “Bella, are you poopy; do you have poops; do you need your diaper changed?”, she replies ever so slyly with, “No, I just farted.” At two, she is showing huge potential for being a funny adult, don’t you think?

I was staying at my in-laws for the last couple of days. My father-in-law, was very kind and offered to watch the girls while I went to a girls’ dinner with my mother-in-law and some extended family. I explained that I had left a diaper and wipes in the bathroom for Bella in case he needed it. Now, I know how he feels about poopy diapers. He wasn’t even fond of changing his own kids. So, I told him, “If she does poop, if you don’t want to deal with it, if you can stand the smell, just leave it, she’ll be o.k. until I get back.”

On the way to dinner I confided my concern for my father-in-law and the diaper situation to my mother-in-law. She just cracked me up and said, “Oh, he’ll be fine. You should have told him that you were just giving him an opportunity to pay you back for his diapers that you are going to have to change someday.”

Well, he did have to change a poopy diaper a half an hour after we left. I voiced my appreciation from the hallway as I was leaving to come home last night. I also mentioned that he had given me a good reason to have to change his diapers someday. I wasn’t too surprised when no laughter came from the office. I am sure he was horrified at the thought. I quickly p.s.’ed with the declaration that Faye had told me to tell him that. Still no response. What do you do? Again, I am left to wonder if my father-in-law will continue to accept me. So, in explanation: Duane, it was just a joke. If someone needs to change your diapers when you get old, I promise, it won’t be me. That is what Amy is for.

Little Jack Horner

Introducing “The Young Jack Roberts”

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner
Eating his Christmas pie,
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum
And said “What a good boy am I!”

This ryhme has a great history, that includes Horner, a thief, being rewarded greatly. Horner was obviouslly rewarded unworthily, inspiring the political rhyme and Horner’s own political taunting, “what a good boy am I.”

What do Little Jack Horner and Little Jack Roberts have in common you may ask? Both the theif Horner and the misbehaved Roberts think that they are “good boys” when in actuality they are far from it. And of course they also share the name Little Jack.

The young Jack Roberts lives in another dimension, just like ALL other children. This was demonstrated wonderfully during the President’s press conference, announcing the nomination of his father, John Roberts, as a candidate for the Supreme Court bench. Click here and scroll down the page to the bottom left hand column and click on “Young Jack Roberts steals the show” to see the video clip. SO FUNNY!

Now, I am not about to rip on Jack Robert’s parents or nanny or whoever raises the kid. My kids have done far worse than this to embarass me (O.k., maybe not really…as they have never shared air time with the President of the United States and turned it into a circus), but if you are a parent, you will know what I mean about being embarassed. Kids can be outright humiliating, no matter how good of job you are doing.

I will say this; I would not even attempt to put my four year old in front of cameras in such a stuffy setting that late at night. I can only think that the reason Mrs. Roberts was talked into it was for “political gain”. She had to know that she was setting herself for a disaster. According to critics, Jack’s misbeavior really will make people “sympathize” with Roberts. The “people in the know” have said so much in the positive towards the child’s bantering that you would think that they put Little Jack up to his misconduct.

So, what am I trying to say here? I don’t know. I am just rambling today. I had a rough day yesterday. Remember the linger longer that I attempted yesterday, at the urging of my husband. Yeah, well, I couldn’t do it! I left 15 minutes into it when he never showed up to help me with my three children who live in another dimension! He was in taking care of his church duties and I was left trying to figure out how to fight my way through a Disneyland style line to gather three plates of food without either dragging my three young children with me or leaving them unattended. Well, I never came up with an answer and I left all upset feeling like a loser because I cannot emotionally handle a stupid potluck.

An announcement was made to let people with small children and the elderly get in line first, but I guess the majority of people in our congregation feel they fit into those two categories. (Or, their manners go out the window because after years of conditioning that the only way to get any food is to get at the front of the line, so, they don’t regard other people) I’m not even mentioning how I felt about being forced to leave my jellyroll pan of brownies, two loaves of french bread, and two large fruit salads behind that I had worked on for two hours the day before, ONLY to go home to eat ramen and toast.

Hey, I have an idea. Maybe it isn’t the children who live in another dimension. Maybe it is all the rest of the world that doesn’t understand that children are wild animals in the process of being tamed? Would you leave three starving and wild tigers in a room full of frantic starving people to fend for themselves while you stood around waiting patiently to get them some substance? NO! I guess I spend enough time with the wild tigers to understand them. I guess I also understand, me, their trainer, enough to know that I can’t even attempt to do certain things with them….such as, a late night press conference, or a linger longer full of inconsiderate people. In fact, if I had it my way, I would tap into their dimmension completely…it’s got to be a lot less stressful.

The WORK and the Glory

We spent a good proportion of May involoved with the filming of The Work and the Glory. Sophia has a short stint in the second film. She plays the three-year-old Rachel. I was such a good stage mom! We are looking forward to the film coming out in theatres. You will have to look for one in your area. With the first film it only played in a limited amount of theatres nationwide. The film is available now on DVD. I recommend it and the books by Gerald Lund.

Because Sophia was considered a “principal” actor when we were on set; they rolled out the carpets for us, as is tradition in the “acting” world. No wonder why they all have such big egos…the industry puts the actors on this awful pedestal. Although, I must say that most of the actors that we came into contact with were very down to earth and nice, especially to Sophia.

Well, as you can see, Sophia had her own trailer. Isn’t she so special? When we got home from our first day on set, Sophia and I relayed all of the details to LG and Abigail and Bella. We especially made a big deal about her trailer. Abigail got a little jealous of the attention that Sophia was getting. I called the casting director and asked if Abigail could come on as an extra one day. Cookie was really helpful towards my sibling rivalry situation and booked us in for a day.

So, a few days later, Abigail and drove up the road 30 miles to The Museum of Appalachia where they were filming The Work and the Glory II. As we drove up and saw all of the trailers (wardrobe, hair, make-up) Abigail turned to me and said in all seriousness, “Where is my trailer”? She was in for a rude awakening as we stood in the “cattle call” lines all day with the rest of the thirty or so extras. Many crew members got a few laughs as I sarcastically inquired where Abigail’s trailer was.

Abigail and I played as “extras” in a few horrendous scenes. Abigail absolutley detested the whole day and told me that she did not like acting at all. I couldn’t blame her. I hated dragging her around to play “pretend” all day. It was 80+ degrees outside and we were filming a winter scene where we had to run up and down a hill multiple times. We had to wear Pioneer petticoats, bonnets, dresses, tights, uncomfortable “issued” shoes, PLUS, winter coats and shawls. We were running after a horse, and the last time we had to ditch the poop that he had deposited just minutes before, ruining the 14th take. By the end of the 15 takes I was saying, “Where is my trailer”? Oh, the things we do for our children.

At the end of the day, Shay, the assistant casting director invited us for another day of filming; I couldn’t even seem to find any tact.(surprise, surprise!) When Shay said, “Could you come back on Tuesday?” I answered with a very loud, “NOOOOoooooo.” followed by a much too soft, “thank you!”

Carson

My newest nephew. Lucky for my sister-in-law, Meagan, he was only 8 lbs. 4 oz. My brother-in-law, Jordan, was a whopping 12 lbs. when he was born. Lucky for Carson, he was born on July 24, 2005. July 24th is the day that marks a great Mormon holiday, Pioneer Day. Pioneer day is the day that we celebrate the Mormon’s arrival in 1847 to the Salt Lake Valley, also memorializing our great Pioneer Heritage.

It is just coincidence that Carson’s parents gave Carson the middle name Taggart. Carson shares this name with his famous Mormon great-great-great-great grandpa. Carson was given this name months before they knew he would be born on Pioneer Day.

George Washington Taggart was part of the historic Mormon Battalion and was the father to SarahJane Taggart. SarahJane was the mother of Horace Heiner. Horace and Amy Heiner were the parents to Melba Heiner Gold. Melba is the mother of my father-in-law, Duane Gold. Duane is the father of my husband, LeGrand, and LeGrand’s brother, Jordan, the father of the newest little nugget, Carson Taggart.

The Potluck

Learn one VITAL sign in ASL: Eat food!

As opposed to Eat poo (“U-no-poo” was one of my favorite parts of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling)Wouldn’t I love to be like J.K. Rowling someday!

Well, this entry is dedicated to one vital facet of Mormon life…..the potluck dinner. I must say that before moving to Tennessee, I really liked potlucks. But, too many bad experiences in my congregation here have quite turned me off. At our Christmas party last year, we ran out of food…..a Christmas party with not enough food???????
And sometimes after church on Sundays we have what is called a “linger longer” where all people bring food items of their choice and after our 3 hours of meetings we dine together. Or, we are supposed to dine together.

Last year I made a vow to never attend a linger longer again. On this particular Sunday, I left disgusted with potluck dinners. I had taken 3 dozen homemade rolls and two very yummy and large salads. When it came time to eat I found myself at the back of a very long line. I gathered 3 empty plates for my children and was astounded when all that was left of the spread was some yucky mac-n-cheese- and a 3 quarter empty rice-cooker with cold hard rice. My kids were starving and the people ahead of us had been VERY RUDE and gotten themselves very large servings and sometimes even TWO plates. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I told LG that I would never attend a linger longer again.

Yesterday, after church, LeGrand came home and said, “Alice, you aren’t going to like this, but….” I had no idea what he was going to say….only the worst was going through my mind…..(IDEAS: the Bishop wants us to donate a $1,000, I have been called on a mission to Zimbabwe, I want a divorce)

I braced myself, and inquired. He said,”I think that we should go to the Linger Longer next week.” I lovingly questioned him and he put forth some powerful arguements and I agreed that I would go, but that I would stash enough lunch for the kids in the diaper bag, just in case.

As LG walked back to our bedroom to change out of his suit, I hollered, “LG, you aren’t going to like this, but, I think we should have another baby.” (No, I am not announcing anything)

LG, turned quick on his heels, met me in the kitchen, made eye contact and said, “O.k. Alice, we don’t have to go to the linger longer.” Isn’t he funny?

P.S. I think he talked me out of Baby #4 for now.

London Bridge

Our prayers to the victims of terrorism in the wonderful city of London. Here is a poem I wrote after 9/11. It showcases my feelings toward terrorism.

Choose to Live

I will choose the faith, not the threatening fear.
Observe the children at play and not their danger.
I will hear the laughter, not see the tear.
The love of a friend, not the threat of a stranger.

Life is not lived if we choose to retreat.
If all we see is wrong then we have failed our test.
Let us not all give up, stay home, be beat.
Choose to live and give and take from life the best.

Now, if that hasn’t done enough to inspire you, here is a quick funny story.

About a month ago, we went over to the home of some friends, who had also invited a woman over who is a new member of our church. She is a single mom to a 6 year old son. At one point all of the children were engaged in the timeless game of “London Bridge”. As I assisted the 6 year old boy and my 6 year old daughter, I made a terrible Freudian slip…..”Take the key and knock her up.” I swear I need to staple my lips together!!!

For you die hard fans….Yes, I am going to still try and get on here once in while. Sorry, I got really burned out….keep watching…I could surprise you.

Animals & Crackers

Shopping at the warehouse
It’s been a while. Sorry. Haven’t felt like writing much. I could use bipolarism as an excuse, but for more than one reason, I won’t. At least I will get one entry into my April archive.

A few weeks back, a good friend of mine and I ventured out to one of our favorite places….Sam’s Club. (We don’t have a Costco anywhere near here or that is the warehouse I would prefer.) Between us, we had three children under three year old. We joined the rest of the desperate homosapiens at the demo tables. Unlike other species, we patiently waited our turns at our chance for little pieces of pizza, smoothie demonstrations English tea cakes, and the chicken salad.

After Sophia complained of the taste of the chicken salad and spit her remaining portion into my napkin, the sweet elderly demo lady offered our girls just a plain Club cracker. They each were delighted as she offered them one for each of their chubby hands.

A few aisles down from the frozen foods, Sophia was trailing behind. She dropped her cracker on the cement floor. The lady standing close by her, yelled out to me that he cracker was now “dirty”. Dirty is a relative term. When you have three children, dropping a cracker onto a floor does not constitute dirty…..if it was a sucker and had been dropped onto the floor of the van and retreived with lint, remnants of cheerios, and other foreign objects then it would be “dirty”. Even then, if I had a bottle of water close by to wash it off, the sucker could still be salvagable(depending upon my childs’ desperation for it and my need to please the child at the time).

So, like any other responsible mother, I yanked the cracker from Sophia’s hand. I said, “No no, Sophia, it is dirty.” Sophia looked at me perplexed, but luckily she is my mild mannered child, and she didn’t yell out, “Mom, you always let me eat my stuff of the floor, it’s not that dirty, just brush it off.” As soon as we got around the corner out of earshot from the very paranoid mother I handed the cracker back to Sophia and said, “Here you go.” Letting her digest the cracker was much easier than hunting for a garbage can, and besides…it’s good for her immune system.

Hoppy Easter

Here comes Peter Cottontail

My sister Renee called this morning with somewhat disturbing news. O.k. it is only really disturbing if you are under 5 years old or a mom of someone who it, but here it is. Renee was so sad for her kids. I told her that she should write a letter and complain.

Renee had taken her three small children into the city of St. George for their community easter egg hunt.
Before the festivites were through, the teenager playing the Easter Bunny decided that, even though it was 42 degreees outside, he was just TOO hot to keep his costume on. He took his Easter Bunny head off right in front of all of the bright eyed children.

I think you will back me up when I say, this kid needed some serious on the job training. C’mon, do you think that Chuck E. Cheese would ever strip his head off in front of the birthday goers? NO WAY! What about the characters at Disneyland? They would be fired on the spot! and have no defense in their impending lawsuit. I mean, imagine it. Is Santa allowed to shed his fake beard in front of a line of eagerly waiting children? Do I have to answer that?

I can only speak for my niece and nephew: they were traumatized. 4 year old Tannon asked my sister, “Mom, why did the easter bunny take his head off? Why isn’t he real?” I just imagaine all of the children running around like chickens with their heads cut off when the easter bunny decided to strip down. “Oh, no, oh, no…the easter bunny lost his head.”

This news reminded me of a Maury Povich show that I saw years ago. The show was about people who had very interesting phobias. This one forty year old woman was deathly afraid of character costumes. For the dramatic effect, while this woman tried to explain her bizarre fear, the show had orchestrated an Easter Bunny onto the stage. Her reaction was explanation enough. As soon as she saw the bunny, she jumped up and over about four rows of the studio audience. She was terrified……she probably witnessed a bunny take his head off when she was just a wee-one too.

ilk

Got milk?

Today, once again, I beheld the power of advertising. The Got milk campaign is, in my opinion, by far, the most ingenious ad campaign of all time. Above is one of milk’s recent photo shoots. LG and I love the TV show Scrubs. It has some of the best comedy. You can’t watch the show for more than three minutes without being exerted into an all-out bellyroll laugh.

While I was watching my taped version of ER today, (Yes, taped….remember, we are poor and therefore, some of the only Americans who still tape instead of TiVo ing) the Staples commercial came on. Abigail had been asking me for a glass of milk for a few minutes and I was trying to get the kids situated into a movie. I kept telling her, “Just a minute.” Abigail must have been paying really good attention to the Staples commercial, which in my opinion is not good. But, for my five year old, today, it was good for something.

The commercial goes something like this…..1-man not listening to a co-worker….2- man catches the 1st and last part of the conversation….and hears only, “When I get back I need. mumble mumble mumble “er” or you are fired” 3 – Man goes to staples and the superhero staples employee walks through the store with the man,telling him everything that they carry that ends with the sound “er”. 4- Man magically remembers that it is the blankety blank blank wireless routER that he needs 5- man shouts out staples’ praises as he walks out of the store with his job still in tact.

After the commercial Abigail says this, “Mom, I need something that ends with ‘ilk'” as if her mental challenge will make me work to her beck and call faster. She is so FUNNY.

I chuckled and went and got her the mILK that she so desperately needed. Abigail and Sophia then watched their movie. When I got back to my taping of ER, I was sorely disappointed that for the second taping in a row, we had managed to run out of tape and cut off the last ten minutes of the show. No frets though, my sister filled me in.