This Baby is Coming!

I am going to have four children by the end of this week!  Maybe tomorrow.  I wish this one had a name already, but my husband is not cooperating about names.  He is also being picky about furniture.  We took our sectional downstairs to our 95% finished basement, so we have no seating in our upstairs family room.  We have gone furniture shopping, but he doesn't seem to like anything.  It seems to me that the nearly nine month pregnant lady should get to pick the furniture....  And the name....

I think I have gone to the hospital six or seven times with this pregnancy.  I am so sick of hospitals that I am a little nervous that I will wait too long to go now that labor has sort of started again.  So, if you see me on the news tomorrow because I had a baby on the side of the road, you know why.

My kids are still funny.  But I still can't remember the things they say for very long, so I have no updates on them.

My two-year-old nephew came and sat by me on the couch the other day.  "Hi, Missa," he said.  I responded, "Hey, dude."  He got right in my face and said, over and over, "Missa, it's me, Tyler.  It's Tyler, Missa."  He sounded worried.  Apparently, he thought I forgot his name when I called him dude.

One Hundred Balls

Avery was so excited to make Stone Soup at school about a week ago.  She talked about it for weeks.  She kept telling us what kind of vegetable she wanted to bring.  She went to school that day, and she had a great time.  Then she came home and showed me EVERYTHING that was in the soup.... twice.  Poor girl.  I don't think I'll be wanting any kind of veggie soup anytime soon.

A few days ago, Avery told me,  "Your tummy is WAY bigger than a basketball.  Maybe like a giant watermelon.  Or two basketballs put together.  Or like a hundred balls that are kind of little."

Later that day, Preston informed me that, "Pluto does not exist anymore."  Carter and I told him that is does still exist but that some scientists don't think it's big enough to be a planet.  He adamantly told us that it really didn't exist anymore.  I started to laugh, which he didn't think was funny.  That made me laugh harder.  Then Avery told me, "Mom, you kind of laugh like a dolphin."

I told someone about Avery saying my laugh sounded like a dolphin.  She overheard, and she yelled, "I'm so mad you talked about it!  Don't ever talk about it again!"

At least she doesn't know how to get on my blog.

Stories from Long Ago

I know I haven't posted many funny things about my kids lately.  I have a valid reason.  I'm blaming it on being pregnant and having no memory.  Every time I have gotten onto here to post something, by the time I am ready to start typing, I honestly cannot remember the funny thing I was going to write about happening.  This has happened about six or seven times this month. 

So, I will write about some things that happened far enough back that my lack of short term memory isn't affected.

This didn't happen to me.  When Bill was a baby, his four older sisters were not happy that he was a boy, so they put him in the front yard with a For Sale sign on him.

My sister still thinks it's funny that in kindergarten I wouldn't stand close to her while we were waiting for the school bus because I was embarrassed to stand close to the cactus.  (Who wouldn't be?)

Maybe I already talked about this, but when Carter was almost two, I heard him in the other room singing, "Elmo was a puppet, first one that we know...."  (This will only be funny to those who know the song "Follow the Prophet".)

When my sisters were younger, they had the following exchange:

Becky:  You're not as pretty as Miss America.
Heather:  (very indignantly) I ought to slap you!

I just got out a journal, so here are some other things from that:

In one weekend:  Carter and his cousin put desitin all over Preston, from head to toe, dumped out the majority of my sister's kitchen, unrolled three full rolls of tape, and as I was unpacking after I got home, I got to the kitchen just in time to hear Carter say, "This is to wash you, Preston," as he poured dish soap all over Preston's head.  Preston smelled like dish soap for several days and through several baths.  (This is when Carter was about two and a half.)

The week that Carter turned four, he spent over four hours one day making decorations for a puppet show he wanted to do for Bill.  He wanted me to make some decorations, and when I wouldn't, he said, "Mom, if you don't do what I tell you to do, I'm gonna be really mad at you."  Later, he asked me nicely to help him color a few pictures because he had too much work to do all by himself.  He was so proud of everything he had done, and he kept saying, "Daddy's gonna be so proud of me for doing my puppet show and decorations."  (And he was.)

When Preston was two, we were outside in our tiny backyard.  Preston was hitting the ball off the tee,. and when he did it, he looked at me and said, "You clap, Mama."  I did, and it made him so happy, even though I had just done it because he asked me to.

We were driving home from my sister's wedding, and Carter said, "Mom, I need a bath.  I stink.  The whole thing of me smells like foot."  Then he told me that the whole thing of Avery smelled like foot, too.  (He wasn't lying.)

We went to a spray park with cousins while we were in Boise for my sister's wedding.  Preston was standing next to a kid who was wearing swim trunks.  Preston looked over at the kid and just poked him right in the bellybutton.

One of Carter's stories he made up when he was four:  Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Melissa and a daddy named Preston.  They went on a walk in the jungle and fell into a giant hole.  They never got out, and they died there.  But just before they died, Jesus saved them and gave them some food.  But they still died."

I forgot about how scared Preston used to be of the Evil Zurg.  He would wake up after having nightmares that the Evil Zurg was going to get him.  He couldn't watch Toy Story movies until he was four or five because he was so scared.

Avery has always like anything that is pink and girly.  She used to name all her babies Kaylee and Leah, after my friend's twin babies.  She has loved shopping, shoes, and expensive chocolate since she was two. 

New Blog and a Seven-year-old

I have a new blog all about books.  If you are interested, you can find it at www.readerslikeme.blogspot.com.

I will be adding lots of books that I like to this blog.  My sister might even make it look cute.  I have not yet figured out how to do that part of blogging. 

Preston is SEVEN now!  I don't know how that happened.  He was very excited to come home from school yesterday to a surprise party.  He has been enjoying his new legos all day. 

Stuff

Me:  Avie, I think Daddy needs to tickle you.
Avery:  Why?  It's not his job.
Me:  It is his job.  He's your dad.
Avery:  Oh, is he your helper now?

After my doctor appointment today, Bill took me to Costco.  He pushed me around in a wheelchair.  It's not as much fun to go shopping when I can't see anything.  It was nice to get out of the house for a few minutes, though.  Also, Bill is not a good wheelchair driver.  He almost crashed me into three other carts and one toy display.  It was kind of scary. 

Carter was very proud to tell anyone who would listen that he read ten hours last week.  (He was reading Fablehaven and couldn't put it down.)  At least he likes reading now, but what does an eight-year-old read next after Harry Potter and Fablehaven? 

Preston has been playing "I Love to See the Temple" on the piano lately.  I've got to get him a piano teacher soon because a) he hasn't really even had a lesson, and he obviously has some talent, b) I can't listen to that song much more, and he has got to learn some new songs, and c) I don't think I am going to be able to teach my own children piano lessons like I had planned.  I think my kids will listen to another teacher much better than they listen to me. 

Heather

Heather is awesome.  She made my blog pink.  And she put up a newer family picture.  She is also awesome in other ways.  I don't want her to get puffed up with pride, but here is a list of awesome things she does.

1.  She laughs at my jokes.  Every single one.
2.  She is my sister, and she's only a little bit embarrassed about it.
3.  She has some of the cutest kids ever.  And she dresses them up funny and sends me pictures.
4.  She loves my kids, even the ones who stay inside from recess to draw robots.
5.  She doesn't brag that much about how she can eat peanut butter and I can't.
6.  She doesn't act like it's that weird if I call her four times in one day.
7.  She looks like a cuter and skinnier version of me, but she pretends we are equals.
8.  She tries to get everyone excited about visiting Gillette, Wyoming.
9.  She overnights homemade cinnamon rolls to me.  Well, she might.  One day.
10. She is super sweet and kind and funny and smart.  And she makes other people feel like they are all those things as well.
11. She IS as pretty as Miss America, no matter what Becky says.

Audis

I overheard this conversation a few minutes ago.

Carter:  Dad, what's an Audi?
Bill:  It's a kind of car.
Carter:  No, what's an AUDI?
Bill:  A car.
Carter:  No, I mean the bellybutton kind.

What I've Learned

First of all, and unlike my usual posts, I want to say how grateful I am that I was able to watch the General Relief Society Broadcast at home.  I haven't been able to go to church for quite a while, so it is nice to be able to hear the word of God.  I especially appreciated President Uchdortf (I don't know how it's spelled) when he said that God doesn't forget us, even when we feel lonely or have made mistakes.  Right now I am in that lonely stage due to the fact that I can't leave my house except for doctor visits.  And if he doesn't forget me, then he also doesn't forget my little baby who is still not quite developed enough to be born, and he knows what is best for her.  And he doesn't forget my other children who are somewhat traumatized by all that is going on in our home, with me having had to be in the hospital, now on complete bedrest, all kinds of people coming into our home to take care of them instead of the person they are accustomed to taking care of them, not being able to have friends over as much, etc.  And he doesn't forget my husband, who is so busy and tired trying to take on everything that I normally do as well as his normal chores around the house and his work.  He doesn't forget us. 
Anyway, there are some things I have learned from this and previous pregnancies. 

1.  Some of the things that we worry about really don't matter.  Like clothes matching and hair looking good and food tasting good and having a clean house.  I am a little more grateful now just that my kids have clothes on at all and that someone has fed our family, even if it's not ideal food.

2.  It's silly to try to do push-ups while pregnant.  If you're thinking about attempting such a thing, just remember that all your joints and ligaments in your body loosen up during pregnancy, and you may end up with a dislocated shoulder.

3.  Kids get bored trying to feel the baby kick.  It's not as exciting to them as I thought it would be.

4.  Husbands eat just like their wives, even though they aren't eating for two.  They aren't always strong enough to resist the treats we make them buy for us.

5.  Chocolate helps everything.  Except heartburn. 

6.  My husband (maybe all husbands but at least mine specifically) will never want to talk about baby names before we get to the hospital.  If I try to bring the topic up too early, I will get ridiculous sounding names for suggestions.  Like Thelma.  Or worse.

7.  It's silly to expect to be able to sleep during the third trimester.  It's just not gonna happen.  Because even if my back and hips aren't keeping me awake, my contractions will.  Or my stuffy nose.  Or my heartburn.  Or my husband's snoring. 

8.  Pregnant people can't remember things. 

9.  Pregnancy does not make me like pickles.  But it does make me like gross chili cheese chips.

10.  I know there's a number ten, but I just can't remember right now.  You know, because I'm pregnant.

 What have you learned?

Ninjas and Boogers

My sister is going to help decorate Carter's new room downstairs.  She asked him what kinds of things he would like.  He said that he would like to paint the walls a dark purple, make the floor look like the clouds in the sky, make the bed look like a castle coming out of the clouds, with a light-up ninja on the wall. 

I'm glad Laura's in charge of the decorating instead of Carter.

Preston wants superheroes and puppies all over his room.  I think I'll let Laura help with that one as well.

My niece wants her mom to have twin baby girls and name them Sparkle and Shiny.

My kids want to name our baby:  Daisy, Sophia or Sophie, June, Sadie, and a few others I can't remember.  I'm glad that they don't like Sparkle or Shiny because I would not be able to please them. 

The kids came to see me while I was in the hospital.  It broke my heart when they were ready to go and Preston was sobbing, "I don't want to leave you!"

Then, when I came home, Carter told me, "That was way too long for you to be away from me.  I don't ever want you to be gone that long from our home."  I reminded him that we were planning to go to Europe to visit my brother for almost two weeks in the Spring.  He replied, "Well, that's okay because you will be doing fun things and so will we at home."  I think he had been really worrying about me and the baby.  I hate my kids having to worry about things like that.

I am so grateful for all the people who prayed for me, some who didn't even know me.  It must have helped because when I went into the hospital, I was dilated to one centimeter and eighty percent effaced.  (I didn't know it was that much at the time.  No wonder all the nurses and doctors acted like they thought the medications wouldn't work and were trying to prepare me for potentially losing my baby.)  When I was getting ready to come home, they checked me again, and I was less than a centimeter dilated and only thirty-five to forty percent effaced.  Apparently, that NEVER happens.  I think we were blessed, and it really was a miracle.  Thank you for your continued prayers.

When Preston came to the hospital, he whispered to me, "Do you know that a girl likes me at school?"  "Do you like her, too?" I asked.  "Yes, but she said she's in LOVE with me.  And another girl kissed me right on the forehead."  "Did you want her to kiss you?"  "No way.  She looks like a teenager.  She's like THIS tall."  He held his hand way above his head. 

At Back to School Night, one of my friends told Bill that her daughter thought that Preston was really cute, except that he always has boogers.  After all the girls liking him at school, I can't decide if I really want to give him his allergy medicine more regularly.  Maybe those boogers will keep the girls away.

Chicken Breasts

We were feeling lazy the other night, so we went to Wendy's for dinner.   Apparently, eating inside a fast food restaurant is an amazing treat to our kids.  They were so excited about it.  As we were walking inside, Preston said, "I want one of those things that are like a chicken nugget, except it's really big and it's inside two pieces of bread."  "Um, you mean a chicken sandwich?"  "Yeah, a chicken sandwich.  I want one of those." 

Incidentally, Wendy's fries are not gross anymore.  And the only people who seem to eat inside Wendy's are older couples and construction workers.  And us.

I got a massage today.  It's the first one I have ever had while pregnant.  There were weird pillows that I was supposed to lie down on with cutouts for my belly and my boobs.  The massage therapist was waiting outside a curtain while I got adjusted.  After a few minutes, she asked, "Are you okay in there?"  I finally got settled, and when she came in, she asked, "What was taking you so long?"  It was embarrassing to admit that it was hard to get adjusted in the pillows because my boobs were way too small for the cutouts.  And here I was thinking that I was finally becoming voluptuous.

Where did you get that shirt?

I picked the kids up from Summer Art Camp a little while ago.  It's a day camp that they absolutely love, and I love it because they get to make things for five hours, and I don't have hundreds of cut up pieces of paper on my kitchen floor!  Their cousin Nathan went with him, and he loves it as well.  After they got into the car this afternoon, the following conversation ensued.

Preston:   Mom, where did you get that shirt?
Me:  From home.
Preston:  But where did you GET it?
Me:  I don't know.  I got it when I was pregnant with you or Avery.
Preston:  And it still fits you?
Me:  Yes.  It's made for mommies when they have a baby in their tummy.  You know how my tummy is starting to look like a ball?
Nathan:  My mom did that!  Just a while ago.
Preston:  What?  Wore weird shirts?
Nathan:  Yep.

I Can Tell...

I HATE giving my kids showers or baths.  It hurts my back, and I get all wet.  I feel like a bad mom, but I have absolutely no patience for that.  Luckily, the boys can do it themselves, but Avery has a lot of hair, and she doesn't really cooperate with me.  Today, I apologized for losing patience with her.  She said something like, "It's okay.  You always yell at me in the shower."  But she was still happy, so I guess she's not scarred from it. 

The other day, I was making Preston lunch.  He was standing right next to me, and he said, "Oh Mommy, I can really tell you have a baby in your tummy now."  "Why," I asked, "because my tummy's getting big?"  "Yeah, really big, really REALLY big."

Well, I am pretty big for being only four months along, but what's he going to think when I'm seven or eight months along if he thinks I'm really big now?

A Few Things

While driving home from Boise, Bill commented, "I don't think that looks very safe."  I asked him what he was talking about.  He replied, "That goat tied up in the back of that truck." 

Preston and Avery have been talking like babies lately.  Yesterday, Preston said, "Mom, I'm getting kind of sick of this baby talk thing."  (Hallelujah!!!)

The kids all took swimming lessons while they were in Boise.  Carter can actually swim now.  He also thinks he can dive.  But it just turns into a belly flop every time.  Avery and Preston can almost swim. 

Yesterday, I was half asleep for a few hours in the afternoon.  Avery and Preston had been playing so well together for hours.  Luckily, I woke up one time enough to hear, "Avery, don't cry if I hurt you really really bad."  They had been playing some karate game, and he was about to really kick her.  I saved the day.  And they kept playing for another hour or two without fighting. 

Avery hugs my belly many times a day.  Every time she says a prayer, she says, "And help the baby to come out of Mommy's tummy...."  I think she's a little excited about it.  But hopefully, the baby won't come any time soon.  I'm only four months along.  And I might find out on Thursday if it's a boy or a girl.  Any guesses?

Personalities

My sister and I were talking about how different people thought of us differently.  It may or may not be how we think of ourselves.  Well, I was just thinking about the color code personality test.  You may or may not be familiar with it.  If you have a minute, let me know what you think my personality is like.  If you aren't familiar with the color code, you can just use regular words.  I am not in any way fishing for any kind of compliments.  I don't even like fishing.  You can ask my husband.  If I actually catch something, it makes me cry.  I just want to know if you all think of me the same or differently from the way I do.  You can be honest.  I can take it.  (And you won't see me crying from all these crazy hormones if you say something mean or super nice.) 

Reasons why we need to get out of Utah

Utah is a painful place to live if you are like me.  Grammar is very important to me, and you might even notice me wince (involuntarily) when I hear mistakes.  Most people do not use proper grammar or pronounce words as I think they should be pronounced.  They don't seem to know the difference between further vs. farther, less vs. fewer, I vs. me, etc. 

My kids either already say or will soon be saying things like:

"Shore."  (meaning....SURE)
"It's helling outside."  (talking about the HAIL)
"Let's sell the boat."  (when we someday have a sailboat like Bill wants, talking about SAILING)
"What's that fur?"  (what's that FOR?)
"Do you want to play the wii er legos?"  (OR)

There are too many examples of Utah grammar mistakes and mispronunciations to even list.  Plus I don't want to offend anyone who might actually read my blog that might not have stellar grammar.  (If you grew up in Utah, just know that it's not your fault, and there is help available.) 

When Life Gives You Lemons....

Looking back, I don't know if it was the raging pregnant lady hormones or the nausea or the continual "Hmph!" and "Urghh!" sounds coming my way that did it.  It started out like any other Sunday morning.  I woke up and thought, "Gasp, Carter has to give a talk today in church, and he hasn't even started on it, and church starts in less than an hour!"  I rushed out, frantically looking for the little red paper with his topic for his talk.  "Carter!  You have a talk to write, and there's not very much time, and you're not even ready for church!"  Well, I finally found the paper, helped him find some resources, and left him to write his talk.  (We make our kids write their own talks, or at least help write the talks if they are too little.)  By this time, I was feeling very sick because I had hurried around so much and hadn't eaten breakfast yet.  As I was eating, I kept trying to help him come up with ideas, give him suggestions, etc., trying to get him to start writing his talk.  He would not write anything down, kept saying that my ideas were dumb, and several times a minute said a loud "Hmph!" or ""Urgh!" at me.  After half an hour of this, I could not take it anymore.  My anxiety was high.  I was sick.  I was hormonal.  And he just kept making those irritating noises at me.  So I did it.  I threw three lemons at him.  We had waited too long to pick these lemons, so they were a bit soft.  And they spattered everywhere.  And I'm not a very good aim.  I think only one of them hit him.  (Don't worry, it didn't hurt him.)  He looked completely shocked.  You know, I'm not usually a maniacal lemon-thrower.  Anyway, Bill finally came out and took over.  I think he sent me to my room.  Carter wrote his talk in five minutes, and I think it went well.  There's even one lemon left.  Maybe I'll make Carter a glass of lemonade tomorrow after school.

Unless he "Hmph"s at me. 

Like Bill says, "When Mama gives you lemons....

"DUCK!"

I'm so sick...

These are like "Your mama's so fat..." jokes, except they're true.

I'm so sick....I can't even look at chocolate.
I'm so sick....I turned off a home makeover show right before the big reveal because I couldn't stand the sound of it.
I'm so sick....I can't even read all the books I have waiting for me to read because reading makes me have motion sickness.
I'm so sick....I just change from one set of pajamas to another after taking a shower.
I'm so sick....Cafe Rio doesn't even sound good.

Okay, tell me yours.  Either from when you were pregnant or just really sick.  Nothing gross.  It would make me sicker....

Mothers' Day Presents

Preston made me a book.  There were many fill in the blank statements.  Here are some highlights.

My mother is very....cute...
She is...31...inches tall.
She weighs...20...pounds
She has...blue...eyes.
She has...brown...hair.
The food she likes best is....chocklot...
Her favorite color is....red...
Mom helps our family by.... cleans the house and shops at the store....
My mom's favorite food is...broccoli...but she doesn't like...(I have no idea what this one is supposed to be)...
The thing my Mom likes to do for fun is...read a book and play with me...
My mom smiles when I....clean my room, make my bed, and do my chores....
If Mom could have one wish come true, she would wish for.... more sleep....
My mom is very special to me because she...makes lunch....

Carter gave me a top ten reasons that he loves his mom. 

I love my mom because she reads me.... cool books.
I love my mom because she helps me ....clean stuff.
I love my mom when she makes me laugh by ...tickling me.
I love my mom because she taught me how to.... talk.
I love to hear my mom sing ....beautiful songs.
I love my mom because she finds time to .....spend with me.
I know my mom cares because ......she told me she does.
I know my mom is smart because she....is gifted a little.
I love my mom because she works so hard at...cleaning the house.
I love my mom because she's the best mom ever.

Okay, number one, our house isn't that clean, so I don't know why both kids talked about me cleaning the house.  Number two, broccoli is not my favorite food.  Cinnamon rolls are my favorite.  Number three, I probably would wish for more sleep. Number four, Avery would never agree that she loves to hear me sing beautiful songs.  She will still only let me sing the nothing song.  If I sing any other song, she tells me that I am bugging her really bad and to stop right now.  Number five, Carter also gave me some coupons.  I wonder if he'll actually let me redeem them.  He said, "I will not accept them on Sundays because it isn't good to work on the Sabbath."  Maybe tomorrow....

After the kids all gave me their presents, Bill told them that the littlest kid hadn't gotten me a present.  They were all confused until Avery finally figured out he was talking about a kid that was not yet born, one that is currently making me very sick.  Preston said, "Mommy, we all gave you a present, but that must be our present from you!"  Carter said, "Is it okay if I use my x-ray powers to figure out if it's a boy or a girl?  I've never been wrong yet.  Except about Aunt Becky.  I didn't know she was having twins."  Avery said, "I only want a girl."

Kids Lately

The boys were saying, "Boo-yah" over and over, and it was starting to get on my nerves.  "Don't say that anymore, boys," I said.  Then I heard, "Boo-yah" again.  "I said to stop saying that."  Preston quickly piped in, "That was Carter!"  "I know it was Carter."  Preston asked, "How did you know it was Carter?  Because it was a different voice?"

The kids were supposed to be doing their list of chores on Saturday morning.  Preston was a little distracted with his toys.  "Preston," I said, "you need to finish cleaning your room."  "How do you know what's on my list?  Daddy wrote it."  "I saw your list, and I know you didn't finish cleaning your room yet."  He replied, "Well, if Daddy wrote it, then why are you interested in it?"

Avery went to her pre-kindergarten check-up today.  I was telling her that if she was brave when she got poked that she could have a treat after.  She replied, "Okay, but I don't even know what kind of band-aid I'm going to get."

She was brave.  "Was I even as brave as Carter?" she asked.

Carter had some testing done a couple of months ago.  They were checking him for ADHD and Asperger's and testing his IQ.  When I had the follow-up interview, the lady said that he didn't have either condition, "but he does have some strange tics I noticed.  People who have IQ's as high as Carter's are just going to have some weird movements and quirks.  They just can't contain themselves." 

Great.  I'm going to have the kid who makes weird faces and does weird things with his hands for no apparent reason.  Like it's not enough that I have the kid who stays in from recess sometimes to draw robots...

Uncle Chicken

Preston:  Mom, is your hair short or long now?
Me:  I don't know. Medium length, I guess.
Preston:  Well, when are you going to grow it long again?  You know, so you can be a fashion star...
Me:  I'm not going to be one of those.
Preston:  Well, you could be a fashion star if you tried.

And to bring me down a notch...

Preston:  Look at this pretty picture I drew of you, Mom.  Oh wait, I forgot to draw the little dots on your face.

While watching Tangled, my nephew commented, "They should have made her have pierced ears."  "Oh, so you like girls with pierced ears?"  Said only the way a nine-year-old boy who is embarrassed can say it, he answered with a big "Hmmmph."

My niece was playing with a doll.  "Aunt Melissa, my baby can't say your name yet, so she's just going to call you Uncle Chicken."

Me:  My brother wants to know if we'll come visit him if they move to Germany.
Bill:  Why not?  Half our stuff has already spent three months there anyway! 

(When we moved from Colorado to New Mexico about eight years ago, our stuff took a little detour to Germany.)

Poor Preston

Preston came home from school today and started crying.  His friend punched him in the face on the bus for no reason.  On the upside.... he lost a tooth.  He put it in a bag and put it under his pillow.  I told him to be careful where he put it.  He responded, "It doesn't matter if it falls under my bed.  The tooth fairy can just fly down there and get it out." 

He overestimates the tooth fairy's abilities.

I also worry about his taste.  He told me, "Mom, if I lose a big tooth someday, I can get whatever I want there.  Like maybe a gold tooth.  That would look nice."

Avery wrote me a note that said, "Mome sre."  (Mommy, sorry)  "What are you sorry about?"  "I'm sorry that I was writing letters instead of cleaning my room."

It Takes Practice

Avery has been sweeping the kitchen floor the last few days.  Every time she adds another crumb to her pile, she wants everybody to come look at "how clean the kichen floor is now".  She is very proud of herself.  Although, it's more work to keep coming to look at how clean it is than for me to just do it myself.  After working at it for a little while today, she sighed and said, "Sometimes it take a lot of practice to broom the whole floor." 

Preston was sick during the night.  When I got up this morning, he said, "Mommy, I can't go to school because I threw up in the night.  Do you believe me about that?" 

Later, he said, "I feel most of the way better.  I'm still too sick to do my homework, but I could have that piece of candy now." 

Yesterday, we went over to a friend's house to play.  As we were getting ready to leave, I noticed that my left hand was blue.  I thought that maybe I had gotten something on it, so I tried washing it off.  It didn't wash off.  I was trying not to freak out too much, but I didn't know what to do.  Of course, Bill wasn't answering his phone.  My friend looked up what kind of things could cause one hand to turn blue.  (I think she actually googled "blue fingers on one hand"...)  Anyway, some of the possibilities were very serious, like a blood clot, a stroke, a mini-stroke, heart problems, etc.  So I called my doctor to ask what I should do, and they told me to go to the ER.  Her neighbor brought me some aspirin, and another neighbor took me to the doctor while my friend watched my kids.  I had never met her neighbors, but I really appreciated them being so willing to help me without even knowing me.  Luckily, it didn't turn out to be anything serious, but I was still grateful for kind people who were concerned about me and my blue hand. 

Today, my kids keep coming to check if my hand is still blue.  It's kind of cute that they are concerned as well. 

Seeing Through the Lines

I've been sick, in Hawaii, or had tendonitis in my wrists... my excuses for not writing for a while.  It's not that my kids aren't still funny. 

Preston had "Who-ville Hair Day" at school today.  I fixed his hair in a weird spike-swirl.  He kept looking in the mirror bashfully.  I asked him if he wanted me to change it.  He replied, "No, but I'm just so embarrassed."

We have been growing Avery's bangs out this last year.  They are now chin-length.  She does not often cooperate with me to get her hair fixed, and when we put clippies in it to hold it back, they don't stay in long.  So, her hair is always in her face.  I asked her how she could see anything with her hair like that, trying to convince her to keep the clippies in and to let me fix it more often.  She replied, "I can still see things through the holes and the lines." 

It kind of broke my heart that she is missing out on seeing the whole picture all the time.  (I know I could come up with some analogy to that....)

Carter got some fake cockroaches from a cub scouts activity.  They were gross and very realistic looking.  My sister and her husband were moving into her new house the next day, and I really don't think they enjoyed finding them in their bathtub.  But I still feel like laughing when I think about their reactions.  (And I feel a little bit immature that it was my idea to put them there....)

Bill promised that he would help me get some pictures off his computer for my blog, so there is a real possibility that it could happen.  Keep your fingers crossed.  If you're a finger-crossing kind of person. 

My Mom's Weird Doorbell and Grass Skirts

My mom sent me an email, and this paragraph made me laugh.
"Several electrical things in our house have been going berserk. The garage doors don't close right, the computer's been weird, and the tv, but the weirdest has been the doorbell. When you push it, it won't ring. But then randomly out of the blue it will ring by itself. Even in the middle of the night. And it doesn't just play the regular ding dong ding dong, ding dong, ding dong. It has played, Glory, glory hallelujah, Please don't let this feeling end, shave and a haircut 10 cents, and something else."

I know what you're all thinking.

Ghosts with a sense of humor.

Also, Preston wanted to know if I was going to get a grass skirt to wear when I go to Hawaii next week.  I told him that people don't just wear grass skirts there unless they're dancing hula or something.  He responded, "Why?  Because it's illegal for regular people to wear grass skirts?" 

What do you say to that?

Carter is Eight!

We have a rule at our house, new this year, that anytime someone whines, they have to clean up ten things.  Hopefully, it will help lessen the whining as well as helping us have a cleaner house.  I'm thinking our house should be spotless by now, between the kids and me...

We are sick.  (Yes, I already know that I will have to clean at least a hundred things once I am better enough to move.)  Really sick.  Some of us were sick all week.  But we had a little miracle happen.  We were somehow better Friday and Saturday, for Carter's baptism.  We woke up today sick again, but I am so glad that we were able to make it to his baptism and feel well enough to actually enjoy it.  I almost cried during his baptism, but the urge to laugh helped counteract the crying.  You would have laughed, too.  Bill never thought to go over with Carter what would happen when they were in the water.  So, Carter ended up pinching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut the whole time, way before he needed to.  Definitely the funniest baptism that I have ever seen.  My brother was shaking with laughter next to me.  Somehow, my little nephew Nathan didn't notice.  He said, "When Carter got baptized, I feeled really special."  I'm glad. 

Plus, how did I get old enough to have an eight-year-old?  Just wondering.

Another good thing.  We have so many leftovers that we don't have to worry about meals for a couple of days.  And the kids are making their own lunch.  I'm glad, because I don't think I could walk all the way to the kitchen right now, and Bill is passed out, like he has been the whole day.  (I know, ten more things to clean up once I'm better,)

Skinny Jeans 2

Preston:  Mom, is there really such a thing as skinny jeans?
Me:  (laughing) Yes.
Preston:  Do you have some on?
Me:  No, I don't really like them.
Preston:  But are you wearing some right now, and that's why you're dizzy?  Because you have SPS?
Me:  What is SPS?
Preston:  It's Skinny Pants Syndrome. 
Me:  (laughing again) What does that do?
Preston:  It makes you dizzy and stop breathing and so you can't feel your legs.  I saw it on Sonny With a Chance.  And is that why you're sick right now?
Me:  No, I can feel my legs.  I just have a cold or a flu.
Preston:  Oh, that's good, because SPS makes you go potty in your pants because you can't get them off.

Sick Day

Carter, Avery, and I are all home sick today.  It's awesome.

I don't want Bill to feel left out of this blog, and I keep laughing in my mind every time I think about a comment he made a few years ago.  We had returned to my parents' house after attending my ten year high school reunion.  My mom and sister were asking how it went and how all the people were doing, etc.  At one point, Bill said, "Melissa looked better than 95% of the people there." 

a.  There were probably at least ten percent of the people who looked better than I did, so it was an inaccurate percentage.
b.  What five percent did Bill think looked better than me... you know... his WIFE?

Carter also sometimes get left out, but eight-year-olds can say funny things, too.  Like the other day.  I fixed his hair, and he said, "Mom, I don't really think my hair looks good like this.  This kind of hair only looks good if I had a beard."