Sounds of the Day

The worst sounds of the day:

• The alarm clock. Usually I'm a morning person, but after a few nights of no sleep thanks to fevers following H's MMR and Hep shots, I was/am b.e.a.t.
• The Cootie game being dumped out by H. Again.
• The Barney "Fun on Wheels" DVD that H insists on watching when I shower. I believe I have made clear my opinion of Barney before.
• Sweetie's fake sobs at losing TV privileges for tomorrow after refusing to turn the TV off today.
• J's "gotcha's" and turkey gobble noises during FHE treats. Now, he does a mighty fine turkey gobble. But 50 times? There's a reason why we don't have turkeys (many reasons, actually, but that is one of them).
• The sound of H's milk cup falling and bouncing around the kitchen as it distributed its contents freely after FHE.
• The noise coming right now from H's bedroom. Last night it was 9:45 before he fell asleep. The kid can last.

The best sounds of the day:

• An old friend's voice--ran into her at the gym this morning.
• A silent monitor for 2 hrs and 45 minutes while H took a monster nap so I could almost finish making changes on my 5th draft of my article. Can't wait to finish it. Can't stand looking at it anymore.
• The phone ringing and it's not a telemarketer.
• The garage door going up--J's home from work!
• H's smacking lips when he gives goodnight kisses.
• Kids laughing together while brushing their teeth.

April's poem of the month and some random thoughts

Look at me being early with the poem of the month. I was thinking of this one last night and this morning. It's called "When I Am Among the Trees," by Mary Oliver. You might think it kind of strange that I have been thinking of a poem called, "When I Am Among the Trees," given that in the desert of the southwest, we have very few trees. For Oliver (or for the persona speaking in the poem), the trees are crucial to her slowing down and realizing the simplicity and purpose in her life. I understand that, having grown up loving the mountains for the same reason. But these reminders to not hurry through the world and to be filled with light also come from spiritual sources for me.

Last night while J was at the priesthood session of the general conference for our church, the kids and I picked up a Little Caesars pizza and headed to the park. We played kickball, people watched, and timed each other on made-up obstacle courses through the play equipment. (Watch out! I can slide and balance beam with the best of them--just don't make me do the monkey bars.) The sun left brilliant pink streaks in the sky, the air was perfectly warm, and I was perfectly content and overwhelmingly thankful. I felt as Mary Oliver writes in this poem, convinced of the need for simplicity, "to go easy, to be filled with light." I wanted to remember not to "hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often."

I have a problem with walking slowly--I multi-task and multi-task and multi-task. And I get a lot done in life. But life is usually not about getting things done and sometimes I need J to remind me of that (he's good at balancing me out in that respect) and sometimes I need a spring/summer night with my kids to remind me of that. So here's Mary Oliver's fabulous poem. (By the way, April is the National Month of Poetry. Do you have a favorite?)

When I Am Among the Trees

by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness,

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

A catch-all post

Tonight was a perfect spring evening. J returned from a fun (and expensive!) weekend at the Mountain West Basketball tournament in Vegas. We grilled tenderloin and picked romaine from the garden for dinner. Then we went for a walk around the block. The sky was streaked with pink and H kept pointing at the half-moon and saying, "Moo! Moo!" Then we played girls against boys, kicking the soccer ball. H was bored and checked out the neighbors' open garages for better options.

Life has been busy. And hard. And fun. I haven't mustered up the energy to blog about any of it, obviously. Along with blogging, here are a few things I also have not been doing:

• Taking care of the broccoli in the garden--it died
• Returning my library books on time (and actually reading them! Out of the last stack I only managed to read Wednesday Wars--thumbs way up--and The Red Pyramid--pretty good. And I had to keep each a week past due in order to finish them)
• Visiting teaching (oops. And I'm in the Relief Society presidency. I should get on that.)
• Losing those last inches around my stomach from when I was last pregnant
• Planning something for spring break this week (yikes! I should get on that--need to be proactive or kids will fight the whole week)
• Sleeping--H has been sick. AGAIN. coughing all night, up all night. and at 5:30am.

But let's not focus on what I haven't been doing. Let's talk about what I have been doing:

• I blogged at Segullah earlier about sustaining the prophet. I feel like an expert on the topic (not on actually doing it) since I have now given 2 talks and 1 lesson about it in the last few months. And I love the photo of President Monson that I used in my Segullah post. Go here if you want to download it and print it at Costco.
• I've been spending hours outside with H--pushing him on the swing, threatening to take away his bike if he rides it into the street again, and watching him write with sidewalk chalk while I try to read those library books.

• Working on an article for Computers and Composition. Almost done! It's on online literacy sponsorship ("sponsors" meaning those who have something to lose or gain by promoting or encouraging another's literacy learning). I was hoping to get it off before spring break, but I'm not exactly running on time right now (let's face it, by "right now" I mean "in this lifetime").
• Going to the gym--I bought a $25-for-3-month trial pass to a new gym and I'm loving going to the classes again. I got burned out of running and lifting hand weights.
• I took part in a podcast at The Round Table: Inquiry and Insight into Mormon Womanhood last week. It should be posted on their blog sometime soon. They asked me to be a special guest and participate in the discussion on Mormon women and identity. Emily Jensen, the moderator, asked us questions about pressures Mormon women feel to be "an ideal Mormon woman" and how we can work towards getting rid of these false notions that Mormon women have to be a certain way, look a certain way, do things a certain way, or make certain choices in their lives in order to be "good." One of the most thought-provoking comments in the discussion to me was from Chelsea Shields Strayer, who said that, in her experiences living overseas, Americans seem, more than any other nationality, to rely on their communities to give them their identities more than on their individual ability to fashion their own identities separate from community norms and expectations (she said it much better, but I can't remember). I've been thinking about that because I'd love to raise my children, but particularly my daughter, with the ability to conscientiously construct a self-concept, to separate their beliefs about the self from others' beliefs. But I don't have the slightest idea about how to go about giving my children the tools to do this. Any ideas?
• Speaking of Mormon women, I've also been writing a short reader's theater program for our Relief Society birthday celebration in a couple of weeks. I love the history of the Relief Society--the early Relief Society women did amazing things. I think one of the many factors that led to the amazing things they did was that they built on individual women's diverse talents, personalities, life situations, etc. I'll step off my soap box now.
• I've been giving my kids piano lessons (while H jumps on my back, screaming, "Nay!" or tries to pound on the piano keys, or writes on random things with a crayon some other child left down while I wasn't looking); and I've been cleaning (the majority of the house--don't look in the guest room! Actually, you probably couldn't open the door to look in there. That situation will be rectified before my in-laws visit this Thursday); and I've been making dinners.
• Lastly (because I'm getting tired--see list of things I haven't been doing lately), I've been painting. While J was away, I painted my bathroom cabinets and I worked on a new aspen painting for my living room. I'll take pics when I'm not so tired. . . . (maybe next month?!)

Wish me luck on spring break! Hopefully I'll actually blog about it.

Life with H

Do not be fooled by this innocent-looking face:

Here is the more true-to-life look:

Be warned that, around H's house, basketballs get thrown (as do sippy cups, plates full of food, potato mashers--which seem to be handy against siblings, and most anything that is under the 3-foot range for reaching).

Also, around H's house, forks are not just to be eaten with.

And, despite $40 spent on baby-proofing supplies, they just do not last for long when faced with H's persistent pulling and apparently super-baby strength.

Thankfully, books, boxes, and laundry baskets are available for short diversions from the forks and potato mashers.

And bungee cords are plentiful.

Cooking for myself

Catering to one's own desires when deciding what to cook the family for dinner is not for the timid of heart.

Case in point: Tonight, or today, rather, because it is an all-day affair, I cooked my Grandpa's Chili with cornbread for dinner. I love this chili. It's not a spicy chili--it's more savory. And it stirs up all kinds of memories for me--memories of pulling into my grandma and grandpa's snowy Idaho driveway in the dark and walking into the warm kitchen, with warm arms to greet me and warm chili to fill my stomach. But none of the other 4 people who live in this house with me have these memories and none of them seem to like this chili. But I had a ham bone and I wanted to make this chili. So, I labored over my chili, called the troops to dinner, and I tried to focus on the smell and the taste of it and ignore these comments/actions:

Mister: "Oh no! Chili! With tomatoes! Mom, will you pick out all of my tomatoes?"

Me: "Nope. You can do it yourself. There's not that many."

Mister wails with despair.

Sweetie and Mister: start fighting over which piece of cornbread they get--both want the middle piece. In the meantime, J takes the middle piece, so they start fighting over who gets the piece on the blue plate instead of the green plate. With all of the fighting, H realizes that he does not actually have cornbread and he starts to shriek.

Me: "H, you can't have the cornbread. It's got eggs in it and you're allergic. Sorry, buddy." More crying until I leave my own quickly cooling cornbread and chili to make H a toasted English muffin with butter and jelly.

J: "Cornbread? This is corn cake, that's what. It doesn't even look like bread." And he leaves most of the desired-middle-piece sitting on his plate to throw away.

Sweetie: "I want an English muffin!!!"

J: "I need to add more chili powder to this."

On the 3rd spoonful of chili that I try to maneuver into H's mouth, he decides he will join the ranks of the chili-despisers. He throws his milk, his spoon, and tries to throw his chili, but every once and a while, I'm actually quick enough to stave off that particular disaster. Thank heavens. H begins shaking his head "no" so fast and furious that I am afraid he will give himself whiplash or shaken-1-year-old syndrome, so I give up the chili-feeding efforts and replace them with yogurt and pears. In the meantime, J leaves me to issue threats about what will happen should the little people not each their chili while he goes to make some calls for church.

Mister: "Can I be done?"

Me, looking at his untouched chili: "Nope. Eat your dinner."

Loud sighs.

Sweetie: "I want an English muffin!!!"

Me: "No. I made you chili and cornbread. I'm not making you anything else."

And so on. And so forth. So, I don't know if the whole cooking-for-myself thing is actually worth it. Especially because I ended up eating 2 full bowls and 2 pieces of cornbread and now I feel completely stuffed. But in case you want to give the cooking-for-yourself thing a try, here's my Grandpa's Chili. Don't believe the 4 other people I live with. It truly is amazing chili. Try it and find out (or just come by--I have a whole stockpot waiting!)

Grandpa's Chili

1 qt red beans. Put in stock pot, bring to a boil, take off the heat, sit overnight, drain and refill in the morning. Put on to simmer with:

2 Tbsp giner

2 (14 oz each) cans chili con carne

smoked pork shank--wash and drop in whole (I use the leftover ham bone or sometimes a package of bacon)

1 large onion, chopped

2 heaping spoonfuls of spiced, minced garlic

4 lbs hamburger, browned (I don't use quite this much)

Take the pork shank out after 3 hours. You can cut up the meat and put it back in if you want.

After 4 hours, sprinkle a lot of chili power (to taste), and add:

2 c ketchup

1 pt tomatoes or tomato soup

2/3 c brown sugar (to taste)

cube of butter (I don't add this one--Grandpa, what were you thinking?!)

After you add the ketchup/tomatoes, watch it because it will burn easily.

How did that happen?!

It's already the last day of March? Wow. Well, time flies when you're busy. And, boy, have we been busy. Here's a few of our March happenings that I failed to blog about but that have been keeping us hopping:

The Great Butterfly Send-Off

Our 4 caterpillars made the transformation to chrysalids and to butterflies. So it was time for the big send-off into the real world. We made butterfly cupcakes and had the neighbors over to celebrate their day of freedom.

J's 33 and Better than Ever!

J turned 33 in March and, wouldn't you know it, the only picture I got of the party was not of the oldest boy in the house (J), but the youngest in his party garb.

T-Ball

With 4 practices under our belt, we're knee-deep in another season of T-ball. Mister and Sweetie are on the same team this year since I failed to sign Mister up for coach-pitch. Oh, well, it's fun to have them play together. We also have 2 neighbors and 2 kids from our old church who are on our team.

Project Basketball Hoop

J took the kids to buy a hoop last Saturday, but putting it together turned out to be a HUGE day-and-a-half job. Of course, it didn't help that I was off running errands and he had the "help" of all of our kids and a bunch of the neighborhood kids. (And, as we discovered, with the box, who really needs a hoop?!)

Back to School for Me!

The last 2 Tuesday mornings found me at a photography class taught by a local photographer who had been recommended by others. It was a good class for helping me get comfortable with my camera and with shooting in manual mode. Here are a few of my homework pics:

T-ball practice

Photo shoot in Easter clothes after church on Sunday (when H was Tired--probably not the best timing)

That's exactly how I feel

1. Spring, 2. A baby's head tucked into my neck, 3. Ice cold water in my glass

Another stellar night at the P house, oh, and a cookie update

Two out of the three children are up crying themselves to sleep as I type. Little H because I taught piano today, he missed his afternoon nap, and he is beyond exhaustion and has already woken up once and it's only 8:17pm. Sweetie because she was trying to make Mister smell her bum and so she lost book privileges. (I don't even pretend to understand that child.)

I was supposed to go running with a friend for only the second time because I had to cancel the last 4 times, once because of my conference and the other times because J had church stuff. But my friend is sick, so instead I am eating cookies. I'm on #5 and am not making any promises about when I'll stop. After all, it's only 8:19pm.

That reminds me that I should update the Great Cookie Quest with the latest and greatest, which is definitely this recipe from Sticky, Chewy, Messy, Gooey: Desserts for the Serious Sweet Tooth. Rave reviews here. J says he thinks we have a winner and we all know what a picky eater J is, so that's saying something.

The Best One-Bowl Chocolate Chunk-Pecan Cookies (Makes 18 large cookies)

2 c pecan halves [I left these out since I didn't have any on hand]

1 c (2 sticks) unsalted butter

3/4 c firmly packed dark brown sugar [I only had light brown sugar]

3/4 c granulated sugar

1 tsp salt

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 large eggs

2 1/4 c bleached all-purpose flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp baking powder

2 c semisweet chocolate chunks

Preheat the oven to 350. Place the pecans on a large baking sheet and toast in the oven until they are warm and fragrant, 6 to 9 minutes. Transfer to a plate and let cool.

Place the butter in a large microwave-safe bowl and microwave uncovered on high for 1 minute. Remove from the microwave and stir until completely melted. Using a large wooden spoon, stir both sugars into the melted butter. When combined, add the salt, vanilla, and eggs. Stir until smooth. Stir the flour, baking soda, and baking powder into the batter just until incorporated and a soft dough forms. Carefully fold in the chocolate chunks and cooled toasted pecans.

Use a 2-ounce self-releasing ice-cream scoop or a 1/4-cup measuring cup to measure out the cookie dough. Place the cookie dough balls on a baking sheet and refrigerate until firm, 45 to 60 minutes. Toward the end of the chilling time, return the oven to 350.

Place the chilled dough balls on parchment paper-lined baking sheets. (I find 9 cookies per sheet to be about right to allow for a little spreading and for the cookies to bake evenly.)

Bake until the cookies are crisp and golden around the edges but still a little soft in the centers without being gooey, 15 to 18 minutes. Transfer the baking sheets to wire racks and let cool slightly. Using a large metal spatula, transfer the cookies from the baking sheets to the wire racks and let cool to room temperature.

Stored in self-sealing plastic bags, these cookies will keep for 2 days at room temperature. They can also be frozen for up to 2 weeks. You can prepare the cookie dough balls and, after they are chilled, store the unbaked cookies in the freezer for up to 1 month. The cookies can be baked straight from the freezer but will take a few minutes longer.

The highs and lows

Every night at dinner I ask the kids about the days highs and lows--their favorite things and their least favorite things. Sometimes I get an answer, sometimes I don't. Here's what everyone reported tonight:

Sweetie

High: Meeting Duncan, Grady, and Ava at the Dino Dig and park by the library for lunch, digging, and hide-and-go-seek.

Low: Not getting to play one more game of hide-and-go-seek.

Mister

High: Playing outside after school.

Low: Not getting to go to the park with Duncan, Grady, and Ava. Not getting to go get ice cream like Tyler did (the boy next door). (Poor Mister, forced to eat leftover turkey for dinner and to actually attend school. Where's the humanity?)

Me

Highs: (1) Having the pediatric neurosurgeon declare the H's skull is healing nicely at today's first follow-up to his bad head day. (2) Playing hide-and-go-seek with Sweetie. (3) Having a warm-fuzzy flashback to when it was just me and Mister when I drove by the construction vehicle dealer today. I noticed the front loaders and bulldozers, a habit I picked up when Mister was a little guy and would call out "Tractor! Tractor!" whenever we passed. Made me think of him with a smile.

Low: J gone to the MountainWest basketball tournament.

After the carpet cleaner comes

Not only does the carpet look and feel so nice, but we have some nifty forts going on:

Goldilocks reversed

I came home from an early morning run this week, tired, rather than re-energized. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and go back to sleep, sweat and all. I think I would have done it if it weren't for the three bears. 

1.  a week of no school (for the kids); 2.  a week of school (for me--my mom is coming!); 3. a neck-and-neck game of candyland for family game night

I'm pretty sure I just won

that chocolate-chip-cookie-eating contest we just had. 

You didn't get the memo? No problem. I'm sure I can manage to fit another one into my busy schedule. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow. You never know. You should know, though, that I have had a LOT of practice.

Today's thankful 3:

1.  chocolate chip cookies!

2.  the Ensign

3.  vacuum lines in the playroom (that's as far as I got with the vacuum, but, hey, it looks great!)

"Mom, pull my finger"

I never set out to raise a Girly-Girl. I was never one myself, so why raise one. That said, I certainly didn't set out to raise a Grody Girl. (Sidenote: Is grody even a word outside of the late 80s/early 90s? And if it is, is that how you spell it?) Regardless, it appears that I indeed have a Grody Girl on my hands.

Tonight when I was helping Sweetie put all of the crayons back in the box, she turned to me, held out her finger with its 1/2-painted pink nail, and said, "Mom, pull my finger." I looked at her a minute, calculating. I know what's supposed to happen when I pull her little finger. But does she know what's supposed to happen when I pull her finger? And if she does HOW does she know that?! So, I tested the waters. I pulled her finger. And, yes, she certainly does know what's supposed to happen.

So, being the pillar of manners that I am, I coughed and ran out of the room before I could break out laughing at the shock of my little 3-year-old Sweetie moving wind on a wim. I returned promptly, of course, telling her that I had to leave because of the stink and because people do not like to be around other people who cannot control their bodily functions (or, in this case, those who can control their bodily functions all too well).

Upon further thought, I didn't even need to ask who taught her this new skill: J, now to be called, He Who Is Undermining My Manners Lessons (HWIUMML)

And lest you think this is not a big deal, I will only briefly mention the dried nose-pickings we found on the wall when putting her to bed last week. She apparently sees no problem in trying to fill the small indentation in the wall near her bed.

Well, Grody Girl, be gone! I am setting out to reform the little missy ASAP. Of course, I may first need to deal with HWIUMML himself. Wish me luck! And, just because I can't resist, here's my soon-to-be-reformed-Grody Girl. Today's thankful 3:
1. New scholastic books to read.
2. That clean-child smell when they're fresh out of the tub.
3. My girl, grody or not.