Who knew scissors could provide so much entertainment

for whatever reason, this is Mike’s go to picture face.  Some kids have silly smiles, do self bunny ears, this kid puts on this face.

A few weeks ago we went to a garage sale and found a file folder filled with printed money.  Not counterfeit money, just money graphics printed on green paper.  It was labeled something ridiculous like $5.  I passed it off, thinking I could just find a pdf on the internet and print my own money.  But then they announced everything 50% off and $2.50 didn’t seem so bad, especially since I knew I’d be way to lazy to do double sided printing.   It was probably $2.50 worth of heavy weight paper.  So, I brought it home and tormented the kids with it.

Nate: Can we cut this?

Me:  No, you have to wait until I can help you.  We have to cut this very carefully.

Jake:  I’m a really good cutter.  I can do it.  It’s not even a squiggly line!

(In my head, I was thinking, BUT YOU MIGHT RUIN THEM!  But then I realized I was worried about paper.)

Me:  Fine.  Be very, very careful.  Cut slowly, in straight lines.  Take finger breaks often if your hands are becoming tired.  

And it was seriously the best $2.50 I ever spent.  In hindsight, I would have totally paid the $5.  For probably 2 weeks straight, in every spare moment Nate and Jake cut out fives, tens twenties and the occasional hundred.  The were serious ballers.   We have a gaggle of kindergarteners come over every week and one week they had a cutting party.  Turns out cutting is universally considered fun among the 6 and under crowd.

Also, it turns out that moms find scissors just as entertaining when they mustache their children.

 

 

 

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A Day in the Life of me

8:00 am  I’m awoken to my phone chirping that I have a text message.  I roll over and it’s from McKayla, “Can you pick me up, I’m feeling sick”.

We’ve been battling the weirdest stomach flu ever at our house.  It started with Nathaniel who complained his tummy hurt and the announced he was going to throw up and then promptly threw up all over the bathroom.  Afterwards, he was completely fine.  He ate dinner, he helped clean the kitchen, he read to me, I read to him and he fell asleep.  This was followed by Michael screaming his stomach hurt and then throwing up all over the other bathroom, declaring himself better and going back to bed.  And then Jacob woke up in the middle of the night to cry how much his tummy hurt, “Why does God make my tummy hurt?  Please pray over me!  I think I might die.” We tend toward the dramatic in this house.  Everyone woke up one more time, threw up all over the floor and then went back to bed.  We would have labeled it possible food poisoning, except the following night Marshall was hit and Michael once more.  My poor, poor carpet. On the bright side, my bathrooms are sparkly clean.

So, when McKayla said she wasn’t feeling well, I came to get her right away before she threw up all over the halls.  She’s having a hard enough time without being known as “the girl who lost her breakfast all over the halls”.  I don’t think anyone could ever live that one down.

9:00 the glamorous life of homeschooling 4 boys.

9:23  SQUIRREL!  no, not a distraction, an actual squirrel.  The largest squirrel we’ve ever seen.  It was looked less like a squirrel and more like a cat with a bushy tail.  It sat right by our bird feeder, stared through the window with a look that said, “WTF People, why is this bird feeder empty?  This is unacceptable!”

9:40 back to learning.

11:17  OH CRAP PEOPLE!!!!  GET YOUR BATHING SUITS ON RIGHT NOW!!!!!  GO!!!  GO!!!!  GO!!!!  WE HAVE TO BE AT SWIM LESSONS IN 13 MINUTES!!!!

11:22 

Jake:  Oh no mom!  I forgot to take off my underwear!

Me:  Oh, well.  That’s okay, you can swim with them and we’ll come home without underwear.

Jake:  I don’t want to go home with no underwear!

Me:  Sorry, We don’t have time to change when we get there.

11:26 Jake:  You don’t have to worry about my underwear.

Me:  I wasn’t terribly worried, but why don’t I have to worry?

Nate:  ‘Cuz he was getting naked back here!

Jake:  Yep, I took off my swim suit, took off my underwear and then put my swim suit on.  All while buckled into my car seat!  Now I can have dry underwear!

Me:  For the win!

11:30  We make it to swim lessons right on time.

I have thought about doing something with those 30 minutes of freedom.  I could totally go run for 20 minutes, but then I’d have to give up the entertainment of watching swimming lessons.  For whatever reason, Jacob is absolutely terrified of water.  He doesn’t like getting his head wet.  He doesn’t like letting go of the wall.  He doesn’t like the whole idea of getting in the water.  It’s rather comical.  Though its rather hard to swim holding on to the instructor like they are your personal life raft during a tsunami, it’s hysterical to watch.  When they got to the pool the instructor had them put on floaties that go around their middles.

Jake:  This is ridiculous, there is no way this can ever hold me.

Instructor:  No, really this works great.  Let go from the wall, I promise you won’t sink.

Jake:  No, thank you.

Jake’s swimming looks, less like swimming and more like motion by electrical shock.  Meanwhile, Nathaniel swims circles around him trying to convince him he’s completely safe.

Jake:  NATHANIEL!  You are going to drown.  Touch the wall!

Nate:  I’m fine. Perfectly safe.

Jake:  MOM WE ARE GOING TO DROWN!!!  (we tend to the dramatics here)

12:15  We arrive at home.  I’m not sure if it’s the combination of the chlorine and the screaming at the pool or the lack of caffeine but I have a killer headache.  Lunch is made, school is wrapped up and I decide to lay down before my head splits into two.

 

1:00  “Mom, are you asleep?”

Me:  I was.

Random child:  Can we jump on the jumpoline?

Me:  Okay, open the door so I can hear you.

For the next 45 minutes I hear kids happily bouncing on the trampoline intermingled with whinnying, complaining, crying and laughing.

I’m sure you know where this is going.

1:45  I hear mike scream like he was just pounced on by a tiger.  Followed by Nathaniel screaming and then Jacob screaming.  At first I wonder if maybe zombies attacked them and they are now pinned inside the trampoline net.  This may not seem like a likely scenario, but it’s probably as likely as all three of them being hurt simultaneously with enough damage to elicit the amount of screams I’m hearing.

Mike comes running in the house dripping blood from his head “He broke my head!!  Oh my gosh!  HE BROKE MY HEAD!!!! CAN YOU SEE MY BRAINS???  (the drama)

I assess the head damage and it’s minor.

Me:  You’re fine.  Jump in the bathtub so you stop bleeding all over everything.

I assess Nathaniel.  He’s completely fine.  No blood anywhere.  We can’t find Jacob.  McKayla goes to look for him.  Marshall gets out all of the first aid supplies.

Marshall:  I am completely qualified to wrap his whole head in gauze.  I have almost earned my first aid merit badge.

Me:  Okay, Tell me exactly what happened.  Marshall I think we can hold off on mummyfing your brother for a few minutes.

Mike:  HE BROKE MY HEAD!!!  We were jumping and Nathaniel’s chin hit my head and broke it!!!

McKayla:  I found Jacob, he was crying under the bed scared.

I look more closely at his head, but can tell if it’s ER worthy or not.  I call Dave.  He doesn’t answer.  I call him 4 times in a row.  Still no answer. I call my mother-in-law.  No answer.  I take a photo of his bloody head and text it to dave.  I call my best friend whose been to the ER for two head injuries on two separate kids.  No answer.  I call her cell.

Me:  THANK GOD YOU ANSWERED!

Her:  What’s up!  Did you know they sell vanilla vodka!  I have some in my cart!

Me:  Why do you live so far away!!!  I need Vodka!  (I promise, we always speak in such a way that requires all of these exclamation points).  How did you know that you needed to take the boys to the ER?

Her:  The copious amounts of blood on one kid and being able to see his skull on the other one.

Me:  What does skull look like?  Do you think I could text you a picture?

Her:  Didn’t you just meet your insurance deductible?

Me:  I know, but I hate the ER.

Her:  Just think of it as a little break.  Bring a book.

2:15  So off we went to the Urgent Care. There wasn’t anyone there but the intake lady was on the phone.  A nurse came by to see if we were okay.

Me:  Um, can you look at his head and let me know if you think this might need stitches?

Her:  Oh, yeah, that’s probably going to need some s-t-a-p-l-e-s (in a mock whisper).

Mike turns a little green.  While we wait for the doctor I text Mike’s coach.  “Mike probably won’t make it to practice.  We’re at the ER.  Tragic trampoline accident.  Mike’s head vs his brother’s chin.  Chin wins”

Mike:  Did you call dad?

Me:  I did but he didn’t answer.  I texted him a picture of your head.

Mike:  Is he coming?

Me:  I haven’t heard yet.  Probably not.

Mike:  Oh, I kinda need him.

Me:  What am I?  Chopped liver?

We get back to the doctor and explain the whole story. She washes the wound and offers us staples or super glue.  I was really trying to sell the staples, but Mike wanted the super glue.

Me:  Come on!  Don’t you want to see the medical stapler?  Maybe it’s run by an air compressor.  Kachunk!  Kachunk!  Kachunk!

I don’t know why that didn’t win him over.  I can’t imagine why he wanted Dave and not me…

Mike:  Do you think I can go to baseball practice?Doctor:  I don’t see why not.

3:45 We head home, Mike quickly changes into his baseball clothes and we’re off to practice.

 

6:00 Home from baseball everyone quickly eats frozen pizza, prepared by chef McKayla and changes into Awana uniforms.

6:30 All of the boys are dropped off at church.

6:45  I run home and take a quick shower, down some more Advil, because my head still feels like it might crack open at any minute and my eyeball will fall out.

7:15 I run to a Cubscout leader meeting.

8:15 I leave the riveting leaders meeting, mid discussion on Fish drops and run to pick up all the kids from church.

9:00 When we are all finally home, Dave inspects Mike’s head.

Mike:  How big is it? Do you think my brains will leak out?  Do you think we should make a doctor appointment to get my bones checked?  Don’t you think my skull has to be really wimpy because Nate’s baby chin could crack it?  Should I wear a helmet all the time? Should I sleep sitting up?

No wonder he wanted Dave.  All these unspoken fears he’d been carrying around all day.  Poor kid.

 

 

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you wouldn’t believe it

I have this looooong list of possible topics I should blog about.  I keep a little file on my laptop of the funny things my kids say and do.  It’s a list I don’t share on facebook, because I need to hold back some material if I ever decide to write a blog.  Every time I add something new I think about actually logging into wordpress and writing something and then more pressing things require my attention.

Things like repeatedly feeding the masses of hungry mouths that seem to be hungry the moment they leave the table.  I think I might start teaching my children to expand their culinary skills outside of pancakes, waffles, and quesadillas and scrambled eggs, and then I will stop cooking all together.

It’s also possible that the lure of cleaning my house and doing the monotonous job of laundry always pulls me away.  Never mind, no one would believe that.

Or maybe it’s the latest book I’m reading that is so much more enticing than actually putting finger to keyboard.  I started pinning the books I have read in 2012 on Pinterest.  Currently, I’ve read more than 60 books.   I had no idea that I read so much.  Before you get all jealous, you should go check out the list of books,  but be sure not to judge me too much.  I guess it was the year of zombies, vampires and smut.  I’d like to say that’s not typical, but obviously it is.

Without further ado, enjoy the hilarity.

We’re classy

We only have two rules for what you can wear for church.  (1) A shirt with a collar.  (2) No holes in your pants.

Sometimes, these rules lead to an exciting outfit combination. I know you love those black and gray plaid pants combined with the red and white shirt.  This was also paired with rain boats.  It was stellar at Sunday School.

***

For whatever reason, Boy Scout of America has decided that every registered person in scouts NEEDS a magazine.  Dave and I each get Scouting magazine and both Marshall and Michael get Boy’s Life.  They come bundled together in a shrink wrapped package monthly.  I disperse them throughout the house (aka in various bathrooms).  Personally, I never read them (it might have something to do with the 63 books I’ve read this year).  It turns out that I’m the only one in our family who does not.

McKayla:  Yes!  The new Boy’s Life magazine.  I love Boy’s Life.

Dave:  yeah, it’s a pretty good magazine.  Lots of girls read it.

McKayla:  I always read the “Scouts saving lives” section and then if the guy is cute I’ll go add him on Facebook.

***

Continuing on the scouting theme:

Marshall:  I’m really glad that I’m in scouts.

Me:  Me too.  Why are you glad?

Marshall:  They’re teaching me good life skills.  If I decide to be homeless I can totally pack a backpack full of all the necessary essentials.  Really, everything a homeless guy needs is right here on my back.

I’m not sure if Boy Scouts of America wants to go with the slogan, “Teaching Boys how to survive being homeless for over 100 years!”

***

McKayla:  Can I invite some people over this weekend.

Mike interjects:  Yes, as long as it’s less than 2.

(this still cracks me up.  We were all so surprised by his quick wit)

***

Recently Nathaniel and Jacob have started playing Lego Harry Potter on the xbox.  I don’t think they have any concept of the rules of the game, the object or how to actually win, but they have a great time doing it.  For those of you who don’t know, the XBOX Kinect has voice commands.  Theoretically, you can control the whole system with your voice.  I can browse the internet by saying, “XBOX BING ‘The Walking Dead'” and lots of movies and games will pop up at the sound of my voice.  We frequently browse and turn off our system with this method.

Nate:  Mommy!  Mommy!  Hurry come quick we can’t get off this level.

Me:  Who is the expert at Xbox?  Definitely not me.  (I was thinking he’d go to Marshall or Michael)

Nate: “oooooo  I have an idea!”  He runs into the other room. “XBOX!  GET US OUT OF THIS LEVEL”

***

Me (during some reading to the boys):  What are skills?

Jake:  I know!  They’re like bones, bones in your head.

Nate:  No, those are skulls.  It’s like nails.  They are long and twisty (he proceeds to turn in a circle) and you need a skill driver.

Maybe I should have their hearing checked.

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Homecoming

All the planning, shopping, coordinating, talking, planning, phone calls, stress, and cajoling culminated tonight.

I meant to take McKayla’s dress to the cleaners, not because it needed to be cleaned, but because I don’t iron.  Let me rephrase that, I detest ironing. I never iron anything.  I hang all of our clothes at it comes out of the dryer.  If for some reason I miss that window, I will rewash.  Last year when we moved from California to Washington we spent a few days living in a hotel while our massive amounts of crap was loaded into a semitruck.  Jacob saw the ironing board at the Holiday Inn Express and said, “Hey Mom!  They have the sewing machine board here!  Where do they keep the Sewing Machines?  What are you going to make us?”  yep, my kid had no idea what an ironing board was, nor an iron’s primary purpose.  The whole point here, I don’t iron.

Alas, I forgot about the cleaners.  This morning she brought me the dress waded in a ball and asked me if I could iron it for her.

“Um, no.”

Thank goodness her dad loves her, and his mom taught him how to iron.  Also, thank goodness her dad remembered to pick up the boutonniere.

McKayla:  Oh my gosh!  Look at these pins!  This looks dangerous!  

Dave:  Do you want me to show you how to pin it on him.

McKayla:  No, I’m good, I’ll watch a youtube video. 

Half a dozen girls came over this afternoon to straighten and curl their hair.  Put on makeup, paint their nails and do all those other things that teen age girls like to do.

We then loaded all the girls into the minivan and drove over to McKayla’s boyfriend’s house for pictures and limo pick up.

This poor, poor boy.  I’m sure he was thinking:   Please don’t stab me!  Please don’t stab me!  After she said, Oh, I totally forgot how to watch that youtube video. 

And then when he pulled out the corsage, she said, “What!  I have to pin you and you just get to put that on my wrist!

I promise they aren’t mouth breathers, McKayla just kept up a nonstop banter with this poor sweet boy.

Let me tell you, trying to get a dozen teenagers to take a picture was a little bit like hearding cats.  At one point one of the dad’s said, “Okay, I’m going to count to three, I’m going to say ‘blink’ you’re all going to blink and then I’ll take your picture.  It took about three tries of that before it worked.

Though this isn’t the best picture, it’s my favorite of the bunch.  I love how happy all of the girls look.  It may have been snapped mid conspiratorial conversation or joke, or right before McKayla and her friend broke out in a coughing fit.  Fun, plague, basically the same thing.

I’m pretty sure the boy is saying, “Oh my gosh!  This boutonniere is stabbing me in the heart!”  And this boy is the nicest, sweetest, most polite kid ever.  He’d probably go home with a huge hole in his chest and never mention once how miserable he was all night.

I overheard one of the girls saying, “I can’t believe we got a limo, that’s so prom.  I think party buses are for homecoming.  This is so classy.”  I didn’t know that there was vehicle protocol.  Let me tell you, I’m so glad that they got a limo not a party bus because as we were driving home we saw a teenagers but hanging out of a party bus.  What a recipe for disaster.

Also, one of the girls texted McKayla and said, “Now that we’re getting a limo, I need to make sure that their won’t be any alcohol and drugs.”

McKayla read it to me and laughed, “I’m not quite sure who she thinks would be doing any of that.  None of us drink or do drugs.”  She forwarded the text on to everyone and said, “Are you all leading a secret drug and alcohol life I don’t know about? If so, don’t tell me about in the limo.”

After they left, Dave and I decided to get frozen pizzas, ice cream and a redbox movie for the boys and go out to dinner.  There is something very, very nice about having a responsible 12-year-old kid.

Just as we were leaving the house, McKayla called and asked us to go home.  One of the girls had forgotten her purse at our house.  Could we please drop it off at the restaurant.

Me:  Well, you’re dad and I were going out to dinner, do you think you could add our name to the wait list. 

Her:  Sure, it’s dead here.  You can get a table no problem.

Me:  Awesome!

A few minutes later, we got a second phone call.  Someone left their id at home.  Could we pick that up and deliver it too?

Me:  We’d love to.  Maybe we could sit at your table…

When we got to the restaurant, Dave took a picture of them eating them from behind a booth.

Me:  What are you doing?

Dave:  If we were spying, this is where I’d do it from.  I’m just keeping them on their toes.  

And that is why I love him!  It might also be because he cracks me up.  He posted the picture on facebook with the caption:  “I don’t think she’s seen us yet, we were able to get a table within line of sight!”

Our friends our hilarious.  Some of the comments (okay, all of them because i don’t want to loose them):

• you are a mean, mean father!
• OMG you guys are the best parents ever
• I wish my parents loved me enough to spy on me during my dates.  You guys are awesome.
• high five!!
• (McKayla’s) -_-
• She looks SO happy
• (McKayla)  I was eating a cheeseburger (at a mexican restaurant.  What a gringa)
• No, looked like you were kissing.  You could east easier if that guy let go of your hand.
• No, necking at the table!
• McKayla, seriously put away the phone you’re on a date.
• (me) Part of me wants to say, “why are you on Facebook at the table?!? How rude!” but then if you’re texting, facebooking, etc there is no chance of physical contact…
• Chanel…win   Mckayla, we love you.  Oh, and I’m on the other side of the restaurant from your parents.  –there’s nowhere to hide.
• Also, tell your parents to enjoy a date too–they are also on fb at the table 😉
• This bush is not comfy and I can’t see in the windows…Does it look like rain?
• Gosh darnit!  I’m at he wrong place!  Stupid apple gps!
• Best post ever!
• epic!
• Seriously?!  You’re stalking your kid?
• Your dad says that’s just mean.

(That was some wonderful entertainment while Dave and I waited for a table at a completely different restaurant in an entirely different town.)

I handed out all of the requested items and then pulled out my camera.

Me:  Say Cheese!

The boyfriend gave an adorable smile.

Mckayla:  DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT!  IGNORE, IGNORE!  DON’T ENCOURAGE HER!!!

What I absolutely love about that kid is he got us a table right next to them.

Him:  I thought you guys were going to eat with us?

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My kids are hilarious!

Out of the blue in the car:
Jake:  We should get a pig.

Me:  What would we do with him?

Jake:  Your choices are: We could ride him, or we could use him as a sofa, or have him for dinner.

(personally, I’ve always wanted a pig sofa.  NOT.)

Dave: Would he come sit at the table with us.  Generally speaking, your mom doesn’t allow animals at the table.

Jake:  No, we’d get the meat out of him.  Yum!!!

Me:  Where would we put him?

Jake:  Under a tree, with a stone on top of it.  And a cross.  He’d need a cross.

(Yes, I was thinking pig pen.  He was thinking grave yard.  Angel of darkness, pig graveyard, maybe I should be worried…)

Me:  No, where would he live when he was alive?

Jake:  I don’t know.  It doesn’t really matter, we’re just going to eat him.  Maybe the chickens would like to share their home with him.

***

Nate:  listen to me whistle.

Dave:  That’s a nice whistle.  Maybe you could practice until you are very good and then you could whistle while you work.

Nate thinks for a moment:  No, I think not.

***

Me:  Jake!  Get down!  My couch is NOT a jungle gym.

Jake (dejectedly):  I wish it was.

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My bunny thinks she’s a vicious tiger

Last week Mike came running inside and said, “I SAW A TIGER!!! A TIGER”

Me:  You saw a tiger and left your brothers outside in the driveway?

Mike (running to the door and screaming)  Nate, Jake hurry come here!  There’s a TIGER out there!!!!

Dave:  We don’t live in the jungle.  There are no tigers here.

Mike:  Really, I saw a tiger.  It was as tall as my waist and it was orange with black stripes.

We assured him we believed that he did see something, but it most assuredly was not a tiger, possibly a golden retriever or maybe a plain old cat.

Mike:  IT WAS NOT A CAT, IT WAS A TIGER.

He spent the rest of the day mumbling about how he couldn’t believe we didn’t believe him about the tiger.

****

Yesterday, Marshall was sitting on the front porch reading a book.  He was all by himself.  Amazingly, sitting very quietly.  He came running inside, quietly.

HURRY COME QUICKLY!!!  (don’t you love how well my kids use adverbs)  BUT BE QUIET!

A BOB CAT JUST CROSSED THE DRIVEWAY!

We all ran outside, but there was no evidence of a bobcat.

Me:  What did it look like?

Marshall:  It was tan and about twice the size of Frank.

Me:  Wow!

Mike:  WHAT?!? Why do you believe Marshall but not me?

Me:  Because Marshall had more believable observations.  He chose an animal that lives on this continent.

****

Last night Dave and I dropped Mckayla and a friend off at the movies and made a short trip to Home Depot, aka where we deposit Dave’s paycheck to build a tree houset.  I received a phone call from home.

Marshall:  Mom, there’s a bobcat sitting in front of the bunny hutch.

Me:  WHAT?!

Marshall:  There’s a bobcat sitting in front of the bunny hutch.  What should we do?

Me:  Okay, first make sure everyone is inside and then go get my camera and take a picture.

Marshall:  Everyone is inside and we already took a ton of pictures.  We wanted to make sure you guys believed us this time.

Me:  This is why I leave you in charge!  Good job.  We’re almost home.

When we got home we drove around the backside of our circle drive to sneak up on the bobcat.  If you have ever heard my van, you will know that sneak is really a rather generous word.  It squeaks and hums and clicks and is generally noisy all around.  I have decide to be optimistic about my noisy van.  I figure it gives all the bicyclist and pedestrians ample warning that there is a car behind them.   So as we circled the driveway, we expected to find nothing on our front lawn but a scared bunny.

What we were shocked to see a rather large cat at the bunny hutch.

Just pretend we have a nicely mowed and weedless lawn.

This bobcat was fearless!  It didn’t even budge when we got out of the car.  When Dave was about 5 feet away from him, he finally decided to saunter off to the tree line and then just hung out at the edge of the grass until we went inside.

I’m sure that when the bobcat found our house he did a little happy dance and thought “Yes!  This house has trapped all these chickens and a bunny for me to eat! Heck Yes!”

As the bobcat circled the rabbit hutch the chickens were all along their fence noisily clucking away and craning their necks to get a better view of the bunny slaughter.  Personally, if I was a chicken I would have been absolutely quiet and hid inside my house.  Alas, chickens are incredibly dumb and ours exceedingly excel at being terribly stupid.

Let me tell you something about my bunny.  She thinks she’s vicious.  When we introduced her to Frank, I was sure that we’d have to watch Frank carefully.  I was holding onto Frank for dear life, the bunny’s dear life.  What I didn’t anticipate was the bunny reaching out and taking a swipe at the cat.  Dave jokes that the bunny told Frank, “I smell dead bunny on your breath.  I shall avenge my kin!”  Which may be true because the wild rabbits all come and hang out by the hutch.  I imagine long conversations taking place concerning our cat.

Like the chickens, if I was a bunny, I’d run up the ladder and hide in the top, windowless portion of the hut and pretend I didn’t exist while a bobcat stalked my home.  Alas, our bunny has a bravery verging on stupidity.  She decided to put herself right on the fence and taunt the bobcat.  They were nose and nose for awhile.  I really wish we would have gotten a good picture of our small 5 pound bunny taunting a full grown bobcat.

Imagine here a small bunny shaking his little bunny tail saying, “neener, neener, neener!  You can’t get me I’m in this well built chicken coop!”

I’m sure the bobcat has been casing this joint for awhile.  Him and the bunny have probably been playing this game for quite some time.  What the bunny probably didn’t know was that the bobcat can dig.  A few times we needed to go out and scare the bobcat away from the hutch in order to stop the digging.  Eventually the bobcat decided to settle in and watch the bunny show.

I called animal control who put me in touch with Fish and Wildlife who informed me that they don’t do anything for bobcats because they aren’t dangerous.

Me:  But he’s not afraid of us and I have small children.

Him:  They are completely safe to humans.

Me:  Not to bunnies though.

Him:  Yeah, probably not to a bunny.

We finally convinced the bobcat to go away.  It involved duct taping Nathaniel to a tree with a steak and hiding Marshall behind a bush with a taser gun.

I kid.

I think he finally was annoyed with our paparazzi-like behavior and the constant shouting at him to stop digging by the rabbit.  I’m really hoping that he went off to kill the most annoying chirping squirrel in the world who lives in my front yard.

While he was off, Dave and Marshall went out and retrieved the bunny.  We then went to Petsmart and dropped a small fortune on a indoor bunny cage.

Dave: Tomorrow we should make sure the chickens are safe.

Me:  Whatever, I don’t really care if he gets a chicken, just as long as he takes all the evidence and leaves nothing behind.  He can leave feathers, but I don’t want to deal with any blood.

Dave:  Should we leave him a little note offering up Pooper McPooperson first?

Me:  On second thought, maybe we should bobcat proof the coop. 

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It’s happened.

Yesterday evening we left all of the boys home and went to McKayla’s “Meet your teacher night” at high school. First off, let me tell you, I think a sadist made her class schedule.  She goes from one end of the first floor, to the other end of the third floor, then down to the second and back up to the third. Then way out to the photography class which isn’t even in the main building.  I think the art department might be the bastard step child of the high school.  Then back to the gym.  I’m pretty sure she spends the entirety of her passing periods running at full speed.

While Dave and I reinacted her day, we left the boys with clear instructions:

• Don’t kill each other (always a good blanket instruction)
• Clean the kitchen as a team (otherwise lots of yelling ensues, I’m pretty sure lots of yelling ensued anyways
• When you are done you may watch a movie.

I called about half way through her schedule to check up on them.  The phone was picked up and there were no sounds of duress in the background, which is always a good sign.  They were all doing well and settling into a riveting rewatch of Jimmy Neutron.

When we opened the door I found this:

Someone put dish soap in the dishwasher. This can’t compare with Dave’s childhood dishwashing fiasco, which includes waste high bubbles that amazingly get deeper and taller with every telling.  Maybe modern Dawn Soap doesn’t have the bubbling power of the 1980s version.

It was entertaining and funny and most importantly it was being cleaned up when I got home.

At least the floor was washed, albeit with someone’s feet, but it was washed.  Sometimes that’s all you can ask for.

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Video game blues

Oh, Gamestop, how I loathe you.  There are many reasons that make you my absolutely least favorite place to go with a kid.

I don’t particularly like that it doesn’t matter if we know exactly what we want before we step into the store, when we get inside we ended up spending ten times longer there than we intended.  When I give the “I’m ready to go” warning, it still takes another 40 minutes.  I guess I should be glad that my kids like to be informed consumers, but the monotony of them having to look up every single game on your computer drives this nongamer momma crazy!

I am not the biggest fan of your trade back policy.  It entices young boys everywhere with it’s 5cents on the dollar pay offs.  If you’re 10 and out of money but want a new game you can just bring 20 of your already played games in and trade them in for one game!  Such a deal! I’ve taken to not allowing any games that anyone might like to play, ever in their whole entire lives, be allowed to be traded in, regardless of ownership.  I’ve also taken to setting prices BEFORE we go to the store.

Me:  What is your sale price for Lego Star Wars III?

Mike:  Um, $10.

Marshall:  You’re never going to get $10.

Mike:  Well, maybe $5 then.

Me:  How much can you buy it for?

Mike:  I don’t know, probably $15.

Me:  So, you bought it for $15, and you’re going to sell it for $5.  Sounds like a great idea.  What if you want to play it again?  Or if you’re brothers want to play it.  Then you’ll have to buy it again.  Essentially you’ll spend $25 on this game. I think that’s a terrible idea.

Gamestop Guy:  Okay, for b17, I’ll give you .43 cents  and for Star Wars I’ll give you $6.74.

Me:  Totally worth it!

(He was so jaded by 3 of his games being worth less than a $1 he didn’t sell anything)

Gamestop, I also dislike your Power Up card.  It always suckers me into spending more money.

This past week the boys were trying to figure out a way to get a new xbox game.  They pooled their money, went through all of their video games and set aside ones they were willing to trade in.  They went online and researched games.  Then they decided to log on to the Power UP website to print off a coupon with their accumulated points.  They couldn’t log on to the website.  We tried every email password in our house.  Finally, I made them call Gamestop.

Marshall:  Can’t you do it?

Me:  I could, but I’m not the one who wants to buy a game.

Marshall: Forget it.  I don’t want a coupon.

Mike:  Give me the phone.  I’ll call. (Mike is definitely Marshall’s Aaron to his Moses.  He’s always willing to do the talking.)

We practiced for quite some time:

Me:  Say “I have forgotten which email address I used to set up my Power UP card.

Mike:  Okay, “I’ve forgotten which Power up email address.

Me:  No, Say “I have forgotten which email address I used to set up my Power UP card.

Mike:  I don’t know my email address.

Me:  Say “I have forgotten which email address I used to set up my Power UP card.

Mike:  I don’t know how to login to my email address.

Me:  Say, exactly this. “I have forgotten which email address I used to set up my Power UP card.

Finally, Mike was confident enough to call.  He dialed the number and started dancing.

Mike:  I love this song.  It’s amazing! Hold on, let me put it on speaker phone for you guys.

It was elevator musak.

After about 5 minutes he hung up.

Mike:  This is stupid and taking too long.

Me:  Great! You’ve just lost your place in line.  Now you’ll have to wait twice as long.

Mike:  Fine.  (he calls back)  Yes!  My favorite song again!!!

Finally someone gets on the phone. He had a very thick English accent.  Between the english accent and Mike’s articulation there was a bit of a language barrier.  It was on speaker phone so that we could hear the whole conversation.  The poor guy.

Poor Guy:  Top of the morning to ya!  (Okay, he didn’t really say that.)  How are you doing?

Mike:  I’m doing great.

Poor Guy:  Wonderful.  How may I help you.

Mike:  I don’t know what my email address is to log on.  (We all clapped for mike)

Guy:  Okay, sir I can help you with that.  What is your Power UP number.

(mike reads it to him)

Wonderful.  Okay, I have found it.  I just need to ask you some questions.  What is your favorite video game?

Mike:  Please hold on, I’m thinking (and he tiptoes into the room where Dave is)

(whispering)Dad, what’s your favorite video game?

he yells to the guy:  “HOLD ON!  I’M STILL THINKING!”

Dave:  I don’t know, you guys set it up.  What’s your favorite video game?

Marshall into the phone:  Madden 10!  It’s Madden 10!

Poor Guy:  Yes, that is correct.  Okay the email address associated with your account is xxxx@xxxxxx.

Mike:  I know.

Poor Guy:  Please log in with that email address and your password.

Mike:  Yes, but it won’t let us log in with that.

Poor Guy:  Walks him through the whole process.

Mike:  I know but I can’t.

Poor Guy:  Walks him through the whole thing.

Dave:  Ask him to reset the password.

Mike:  Can you log in for me?

Dave:  RESET THE PASSWORD

Mike:  Can you RESET THE PASSWORD?

GUY:  Oh, yes.  I can reset the password.  I will send you an email with that information.

Mike:  I haven’t gotten it yet.

Guy:  Please be patient.

Mike:  Not yet.

Guy:  Please wait.

Mike:  Did you send it yet?

Guy:  I’m working on it.

Mike:  How about now.

Guy:  I will put you on hold for a short while.

Finally, Dave picked up the phone.  The poor guy was thoroughly relieved to hear another adult’s voice.

Though you win every other round, I think this one goes to me.

Of course, after this I was forced to accompany two boys to gamestop with their $15 coupon and spend an hour aimlessly wandering the store.  After nixing all the games rated T and M, I finally convinced them to buy Wipeout for the Kinect.  Negotiation terms ended up with me paying the difference.  We shall call it a tie.

 

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The fun never stops

Me:  Nate and Jake!  Please go check to see if the chickens laid any eggs.

I find myself constantly keeping an ear out for the loud clucking which sometimes signals a chicken laying an egg.  Sometimes it signals nothing.  I think they know we come running when they get noisy.  Yes, they are training us well.  I am hoping that eventually the ladies will become more regular about their laying times. 

Nate:  Nope.  The chickens didn’t poop any eggs!  And I’m not eating the chicken’s eggs.

Me:  Why?

Nate: Because there is poop all over them.

Me:  No there isn’t.

Nate:  When they poop them out they get poop on the eggs.

Me:  Nate, they don’t poop eggs, they lay them.  They do not come out of their butts.

Nate:  I’m still not eating them.

 ***

We were trying to pick a movie to watch at the movie theater, which is quite a big deal over here. Since we don’t have network tv, we really have no idea what is out and what might be good.  We were watching all of the previews online for all the movies rated PG and below.  At the end of the the trailer for Brave, the announcer asks “If you could change your faith, would you?”

Jake:  I wouldn’t.

Me:  I like that answer.  Why wouldn’t you change your fate?

Jake:  Well, what kind of feet would I get?  I like my feet.  What if I got really ugly feet like the chickens.

 ***

I bought a flea collar for Frank.  Inadvertently, I purchased a purple one.  He’s stylish, channeling his inner diva.

After I put it on the cat, he went outside to join the boys in tormenting  loving the bunny.

I walked outside to see Jacob swinging the flea collar around like a lasso.

Me:  WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!

Jake:  Look what I found on Frank!  How do you think he got this?  (at the kitty strip club?  What kind of question is that?)

Me:  I put it on him.

Jake:  But why?  It is purple?  Frank is a boy.  Why did you give him a girl necklace?

Me:  It is a flea collar.  It will keep the fleas away.  That is poison.  Go wash your hands RIGHT now WITH SOAP!

(Jacob comes back sobbing)

Me:  Why are you crying?

Jake:  I love Frank, I don’t want him to die.

Me:  He’s not going to die.  He is completely safe.

Jake:  But I can never pet Frank again.

Me:  You can still pet him.

Jake:  But then I have to wash my hands all the time.  No thank you!

And the next 4 hours were filled with a  nonstop barrage of flea collar questions and tattling on Nathaniel for touching the flea collar.  I’m pretty sure our bathroom hasn’t seen so much action since we had baby chickens.

Jake:  MOM!!!  NATE TOUCHED THE FLEA COLLAR AND HE WON’T WASH HIS HANDS!!!

Me:  Jake. Stop tattling.  He will be fine.

About twenty minutes later I found Jake on his bed crying.

Me:  Why are you crying now?

Jake:  How long until Nate dies?  Do you think it will be today?

Me:  NATE!  GO WASH YOUR HANDS RIGHT NOW!  WITH SOAP!!!

It’s been a long week.

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FREEDOM!!!!

The warmest weather of the year has occurred while Jacob has had his cast on.  That may not seem like a big deal to everyone south of us whose summer started in May, but ours doesn’t start until after July 4^th.  What that means is that our heater was still kicking on in July.

The day after he was made into the bioncle man, Marshall pulled out the wading pool.  It was torturous.  One day friends came over and the slip and slide was dragged out.  Poor kid, he sat on the porch eating a high-fructose cornsyrup frozen pop (aka otter pop) as a consolation.  The only silver lining was that Jacob couldn’t help do any chores that involved water, which meant no watering plants or getting the dreaded water for the “stupid chickens”.

Thursday we went back to the pediatric orthopedist.

The cast was removed and another series of x-rays were taken.

I wish you all could have been there to see the look of terror on Jacob’s face when the caster walked in pulling his saw behind him. 

Nate wasn’t a huge fan of the cast removal.

Thankfully it didn’t hurt one bit.    Jacob immediately started very slowly and tenderly bending his elbow.

Jacob:  “Oh, this feels sooooo good!”

Jacob was also very excited to show the doctor his amazing tattoo.

Dr:  Wow! That’s impressive.  Are you a pirate?

Jacob:  No.  But I’m going to be one when I grow up.

(As an aside, I find it hilariously funny that Jacob wants to be a pirate when he grows up.  Once we went to the library and he asked the librariarn to please find him a pirate book.  As they were walking to the pirate section he told her that he wanted to be a pirate when he grew up and needed to read up on how to be good at it.

Her:  Oh, you want to be a “PILOT” when you grow up.  Hahaha  I thought you said “PIRATE”

Jake:  I did.

Her:  Are you sure you don’t want to be a PILOT or an engineer?

Jake:  No,  a pirate.  My pirate name will be “Captain Jack Sparrow green legged octopus black pearl Jones”

Her:  Maybe I can find you something about those Somalian pirates… )

Dr:  Will you be kind to me when you meet me on the high seas.

Jacob:  Probably not.

Dr:  What?!  I’m fixing your arm here.  Won’t that count for anything?  Please don’t pillage and plunder me!

Jacob:  When I’m a pirate you won’t know my name any more.  I will have a new pirate name.

Dr:  Will it be Captain Adventurous?

Jacob:  No, it will be Captain Black Beard Scary Octopus Jack Sparrow of the High and Mighty Seas Adventure Gaines.  (I do not know why he always chooses long complicated pirate names.  They must evoke the most fear across the seas I guess).

The fracture on his little elbow is all cured. Tons of new bone growth.  His little osteoblasts are busy little cells.  Bring on an extra glass of milk and some spinach!

Unfortunately the osteoblasts were also hard at work right smack dab in the middle of his ulna.  We were suspecting this to be the case because of where he was indicating all of his pain was occurring.  What wasn’t expected was an interesting little curvature of his bone.   We decided to not recast him, but rather put a brace on.  I don’t even know why they make braces for small children in white.   A week longer in the brace and another round of xrays in a month and hopefully he will be deemed completely healed.

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