Christmas Past

Who's more excited to play with the Matchbox car garage?

All I Want For Christmas Is Summer

One day into winter, and I am counting down the days until it's over. I am not a winter person. Not only do I hate the darkness, the coldness, the driving in snow, but I also hate winter parenting.

Me parenting in the summer: "Good morning, children. Here is a bottle of sunscreen, a box of popsicles, and the backyard. I will see you at bedtime."

This is how I parented this morning. Parker announces, "Mom, its good snowball snow!" I find three coats, two pairs of boots (the third is missing), socks, mittens, and hats. I begin dressing each child. McKay whines at me that she doesn't like wearing the hood on her coat because it makes it difficult to talk and that her gloves don't match. Deacon whines at me because I'm not getting him dressed fast enough. I yell, "Everyone stop whining! I can't handle it!" I shove all the kids out the door. They play for approximately five minutes. Then I hear a banging on the back door. In tramps three snowy, wet children who leave snow puddles around a five foot radius of carpet and dump a load of wet laundry on the ground. "We're cold. Can we have hot chocolate?" Five minutes later hot chocolate stained shirts are added to the laundry pile. "Now what are we going to do today, Mom?"

Summer please come early this year.

Naughty or Nice?

This morning Parker asks me, "If you are on the naughty list do you still get the presents from your family?"

"Yes."

"So, basically you just get coal in your stocking and no presents from Santa."

"Yep."

"Whew. I can live with that."

"Are you concerned about being on the naughty list?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I am. I bug my sister everyday."

He's got a point. "You know there's four days left until Christmas. You could repent."

A light flashes in Parker's eyes. "Hmmm, repentance....."

Exercise

Today I am biking along on my exercise bike, when for no apparent reason, Chris comes over, starts pushing buttons, and bumps my resistance level up from a one to a two.

"Aaaaagh!" I shriek. "Not a two! Move it back! Move it back!"

"I don't understand how you exercise. I thought the point of exercise was to strengthen your muscles and burn calories."

"No. My point is to ride the bike for exactly fifteen minutes while I multi-task scripture reading."

"But don't you want to make your workout more effective?"

"No. Go away. You're sweaty."

At which point, Chris tried to give me a sweaty hug. Luckily I had my scriptures to block him, and they ended up all sweaty instead of me. Talk about the word of God being a shield and a protector.

Chris does not get Kodie exercise. He has never sat on the couch and just watched the exercise video, hoping to flatten his stomach through osmosis. He never went to a yoga class like I did, and after twenty minutes decided to take a rest on the mat. "Are you o.k.?" a classmate asked me. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for an easier yoga move." He never went to a step aerobic class and when the instructor let the class take a water break, actually just walked out of the class. He never skipped enrichment, because the class was on fitness, and he would rather lay in his bed in his pajamas reading a book and eating peanut M&M's.

However, he did just walk in the door from taking Parker to school and announce, "I stopped at Maverik and got a hot dog for breakfast. It was good."

I love that man.

Being Married to a Davis Man

Yesterday I got Deacon's hair cut. I went to pay, and they were having problems with their credit card machine. "Do you have cash?" the clerk asked.

"Yes," I said, "but that's good daughter-in-law money, and I'm not spending it on a haircut."

"Good daughter-in-law money?"

"My father-in-law gives me money, I believe, as payment for staying married to his son."

"Really?"

"Yes, Davis men spoil the women in their lives. I think they are amazed that not only did we pick them, but we also stick with them."

Now I may not go to work everyday, but I do have the job of being married to Chris, a Davis, and that is its own special job in itself.

Have you ever seen a Davis man sick? Specifically, my Davis man? Let's just say its a good thing I deal with the childbearing aspect of the marriage.

Chris: "When I'm gone, I want you to use the insurance money to pay off the house. Wait, better yet, get me the insurance guy's phone number. Maybe we can increase our coverage."

Me: "You have a cold. You need a Sudafed."

Chris: "A Sudafed won't help me now. Kiss me one last time."

Me (kissing him on the head): "Here's a Diet Coke."

(An hour later) Chris: "I feel much better. Your love must have cured me."

Me: "Either that or the Sudafed I ground up and stuck in your Diet Coke."

Also maybe not all Davis men, but mine would starve if he wasn't married to me. His bachelor diet of Wendy's and corn dogs attests to this, as does his current cooking abilities.

(True conversation, occurring approximately three weeks ago.)

Me: "I'm going to be gone at lunch time today. Could you please feed the kids Mac-n-Cheese?"

Chris: "How do I make that?"

Davis men's OCD tendencies would drive lesser women insane.

After having been married to Chris for several years, I walk into the closet to notice he has taken down a pile of new laundered and folded shirts. He is unfolding them and refolding them.

Me: "What are you doing to those shirts that I just folded and put away?"

Chris: "I am refolding them. I didn't like the way you folded them."

Me: "Grrrrr."

There are some job perks of being married to a Davis. They like strong women.

(Conversation occurring yesterday.)

Me: "What would your life be like if you had married the doting, supportive type of wife?"

Chris (teasing): "I don't know. Infinitely happy?"

Me: "You're supposed to say you would be a big wuss if you hadn't married me."

Of course the biggest perk is how much they absolutely love and adore the women in their lives.

Chris: "Do you know how lucky I am to have you?"

Me: "I love you, too."

Chris: "Hey, you didn't say, 'Yes, yes, I do' like you normally do."

Me: "At this point that goes without saying."

Pucker Up

If you've never spent an afternoon reading a book while ignoring your children and housework, then you are missing out on one of the best ways to spend an afternoon. I was spending one such glorious afternoon today. After three hours of reading, I was down to the final three pages of my book Mitch Albom's Have a Little Faith. I am at the point where Mitch is delivering the eulogy at his rabbi's funeral, and I have tears streaming down my face. I am completely involved in this book, so it takes awhile for my brain to register a peculiar sound. The sound seems out of place. It is the sound of water. Water being swooshed. Like someone is violently cleaning the toilet. And wait a second. Only Deacon and I are downstairs. I realize Deacon must be using the toilet brush to clean the toilet. A good mom would have rushed to the mess, but I only had three pages left, so I decided to pretend I didn't hear anything. I continue reading and with two pages left, Deacon wanders into the living room, toilet brush in hand, toilet water dripping on the carpet. Now even a book-obsessed mother like myself would normally jump up to rescue the living room floor, but I pause. I notice how cute Deacon looks holding the toilet brush upright, and I'm thinking, he is such a little Davis. One and a half and already cleaning the toilet. My thirty second reverie is broken by Deacon's next action. He looks over at the toilet brush, sticks out his tongue, and gives it a lick.

Good thing I have a meeting tonight, and Chris is putting the kids to sleep. Chris can give out the goodnight kisses tonight.

School Days

I volunteer in Parker's classroom every other Friday. I love it! Usually I have to hurry back after my volunteering shift to pick up my kids from my friend's house, feed them lunch, put Deacon down for a nap, etc., etc. But today Chris was watching the kids which meant I got to eat hot lunch with Parker.

Parker had a lot of instructions for me. "Hold up one finger to the lunch ladies for lunch choice one. Don't get the orange cream milk. It tastes like gross melted ice cream. You don't have to get the carrot sticks. You squirt the ketchup on your tray right here."

I think Parker really needed his mom to eat lunch with him, because he had a rough day at school yesterday. During PE he collided with another boy from his class, hit the gym floor hard, and ended up with a black eye. I was trying to console him about the eye. "I think it's pretty manly to have your first black eye," I told him.

He looked at me disbelieving, "Mom, men get black eyes from fist fights and football, NOT PE!"

I taught McKay's preschool class yesterday. I have a group of three other moms, and we each teach one Thursday a month. My biggest battle is keeping this all girl group out of the princess dress-ups and princess dolls. (You can see I failed yesterday.)

We were doing an art project, making paper plate wreaths. I noticed one girl was really getting into it, and I said, "Wow, Kiana's really going to town."

To which McKay responded by a fury of green leaf gluing. "Mom, look at me. I'm going to town, too."

Natasha looked up, puzzled. "Where's town?"

Deacon. Deacon's not quite to the school stage yet. Here's hoping for a football scholarship.

Contemplations on Motherhood

I picture my young childless self in my relatively fashionable and unstained clothing pondering what life would be like as a mother. My vision at the time might have included something like me catching my child as he slides down the slide or cuddling under the blankets and reading a story together with all my children. And while I might not have envisioned a white minivan with Cheerios spilling out of every crevice or a pantry stocked with a year's supply of mac and cheese, those things wouldn't have surprised me.

Some things about motherhood have come as a surprise. For instance, instead of catching Deacon as he slides down the slide, I catch him as he jumps off the top of the slide. The following pictures captured in my house today, were not in my original motherhood vision.

I never thought there would be more on the outside of my fridge than in it.

I never thought that that keeping a roll of toilet paper rolled would be a difficulty.

I never thought I would find lunch meat on my stairs.

Blessed, Again

I'm noticing a theme in my life, and that theme is that I have a lot of good friends and family who love me and my family.

This morning we woke up to find a surprise on our doorstep. The surprise was this TV with an unsigned note telling us it needed a new home. I have no idea who gave us this, but if you are out there, thank you. Despite Parker's groggy face in this picture (It was first thing this morning.), he was ecstatic. "Oh, who would be so nice?" he asked. "Today is the best day of my life!"

Check Yes or No

I am going through Parker's backpack, when I find a folded note with a heart on the front. It reads "To Parker." Of course, being a curious, non-privacy respecting mom, I open it up to find the following message: (Typed as written) "Parker you are so funny Will you be my friend? Raegan"

Raegan is about the cutest girl I have ever seen. I was just volunteering in Parker's class yesterday, noticing how adorable she is. So I said to Parker. "I saw the note from Raegan in your backpack. What did you think about it?"

Parker replies, "There were too many staples in it, and I had to pull them all out."

Umm, not what I was getting at. "Did you answer her?"

"Yeah, I said the answer would be either 'no' or 'maybe.'"

Alright. I guess he's not smitten yet.

Stuff I Heard Around My House Today

After Parker spends ten minutes vibrating his hand against his mouth in an attempt to imitate authentic Native American noises, Chris tells Parker, "You know real Indians didn't make those noises."
Parker: "Then why do they do it on Peter Pan?"
Chris: "Because that's a stereotype."
Parker: "Well, maybe they're Stereotype Indians."

Parker to McKay: "Mom's got a migration. That's a bad kind of headache."

McKay: "Mom, when you see me around today could you call me 'Your Majesty?'"

Deacon Does Sacrament Meeting

I don't know what it is about Sacrament meeting. But sitting in a chair and being quiet for one hour is completely impossible for my children. Today I told Parker to sit in his chair, and he told me, "I can hear better down here."

Then there is Deacon. Deacon is by far the squirreliest little boy I have ever seen. I plunk him on his chair, and he is over the chair, under the chair, and through the chair in a matter of minutes. This Sunday, Deacon added a new trick to his routine. He ran two rows up from us and just laid down in the aisle, completely content to stare at the ceiling and kick his legs in the air.

Now normally when Deacon makes a run for it, I send Parker for him. But Parker was on the complete opposite side of the row, so I decided to have McKay give it a try. "Go bring Deacon back to mom," I told her.

She walked up to Deacon and grabbed his hand. When he refused to budge, she started dragging him by one arm. He's apparently heavy, because she had to use her whole body to drag him just a couple of inches. Deacon appeared unconcerned. Without a noise or a worried expression, he simply laid on the ground and allowed himself to be dragged by the arm. McKay made increasingly louder grunts and groans as she attempted to move his heavy body. She finally dragged him back to me, and only when I picked him up off the ground did he make any objections. Evidently sitting on his mom's lap was a lot worse than being dragged by the arm across the gym floor.

Happy Birthday

How hard could it be to blow out four candles?

Rejoicing

Sometimes things don't break in our home, and one of those times is today. Not only that but many of our broken things are now fixed thanks to good people in my life. (Very sappy post ahead.)

My sister, Riki, told me that when you pay your tithing, maybe you don't get rich, but somehow things just work out. And things are working out.

First, the van. I wanted to flush the van down our toilet. But, wait, I couldn't do that because our toilet was broken. We asked our friend from the ward what to do with our piece of crap toilet. He is a plumber, and he knows about crappy toilets. He offered to come look at it, came over last Saturday morning, and fixed our toilet free of charge. Bless you good ward friends.

And speaking of good wards friends, we decided to go out to breakfast that same Saturday. We opened our door and found a pile of goodies from an anonymous friend on our door. When we got to JB's, we randomly pulled in at the exact same time as some other good friends from our ward. We all ate breakfast together and had a great time. Then while we were fattening ourselves up at the buffet, this friend paid not only for his family to eat breakfast but ours as well. When we went to pay, we found that our meal had already been paid for. Thank you friends.

So back to our van. I took it in to the mechanic on Friday. After several hours of running tests on it, they still could not locate the leak. The guy there told me he could charge me for some replacement parts, but he would really just be guessing at where the leak was. So instead, he cleared the check engine code for me and suggested I go retake my emissions test before the check engine light came back on. Here is the amazing part. Not only was he so nice and honest, he did not charge me a cent for all the hours he spent trying to locate the leak on my van. I hurried back to Jiffy Lube and retook my emissions test, and my van passed. I was ecstatic when the van passed, and apparently it showed, because the Jiffy Lube guy told me, "I have never seen anyone so excited to pass the emissions test."

Cost to fix toilet--nothing. Cost to go out to eat as a family--nothing. Cost to make van pass emission test--nothing. Pretty impressive. And I didn't even coupon.

Another One Bites the Dust

This morning I woke up and turned on the TV to do my pilates and something didn't happen. That something is the TV didn't turn on. Why? Because it lives in my house, and things that live in my house break. I am very sad about this, because TV has helped raise my three children, and now I'm going to be forced to parent. Who is going to watch my children while I shower so that my children aren't sitting around watching me? Or in Deacon's case, climbing in fully clothed. What about when I'm trying to load the dishwasher, and Deacon is unloading the dishes as fast as I put them in? What about mommy is going to lay here and read her book, and you are going to leave mommy alone time? Bless you Blue's Clues, Dora, and Bob the Builder. You have been such an important part of our family.

When Parker learned the TV was broken he asked me if I would go buy a new one while he was at school. "No," I explained. "TVs cost money, and mommy's money has to go to paying bills and buying groceries." Tearing up, Parker choked out, "I miss you, TV."

Chris said, "What's going to break next?"

I really wish he hadn't said that, because he jinxed us. Two hours later I brought my van in for its emission test, which it failed. Now I have to pay for hundreds of dollars of repairs to be allowed to continue driving it. Grrr. I want to throw it away with my TV. But instead of throwing anything away, I'm going to go be a mom. Because my TV is no longer around to fill that role for me.

Halloween Pictures

So as you may remember, our camera has been broken for about two months. Hence, all the posts with no pictures. But we finally sucked it up and bought a new one. This one allows us to make movies, too. Unfortunately, I keep forgetting I have a camera again, so I have been forgetting to take pictures. Consequently my kids first year of carving the pumpkins themselves was undocumented, as was our fun Halloween day spent in Emmett, attempting a bonfire and hot dog roast in the rain. The rain refused to dampen Deacon's spirits, as he spent most of the time trying to blow the fire out like it was a candle on a cake. (That would have been a cute movie if I'd only remembered my camera. Dang it.)

So right before we headed out trick-or-treating I pulled out the camera and got a few movies and pictures. (Posted below for your enjoyment.)

Each of my children had a different take on trick-or-treating. Deacon lasted five houses, completely amazed that people were giving him treats or "cooks" as he calls them. The child is a good generalizer. All food are "apples," and all treats are "cooks" (a.k.a. "Cookies."). Then at the sixth house he laid down in the driveway, refusing to move. That was my indication he was done.

McKay reminded me that if we eat too much candy it gives us tummy aches. Looking down at her candy-laden bucket, she added, "But not if it's healthy candy!"

And Parker dumped his bucket onto the living room floor, rubbed his fingers together in his excited way, and declared, "It's mine. All mine."

I've Been Noticing a Theme in My Life Lately...

Parker and posteriors. Not only do I catch him singing about them, but I also overheard this conversation with his cousin, Heath, tonight.

Parker: "Heath, do you want to hear a potty word?"
Me: "No."
Parker (ignoring me): "Maximus gluteus." (He meant to say gluteus maximus. It was a half, half...something attempt at a large word.)
Heath, unimpressed: "That's not a potty word."
Parker, giggling: "Yes it is! It's the science word for 'butt.'"

What a proud mommy moment. My child's first attempt at speaking Latin.

Alone Time

Parker got home from school and announced, "Mom, I need some alone time. I'm going to go sit on a rock and eat some M&M's that Jenni Thomas sent me."

O.k. After a half an hour I decided the M&M's were probably gone and went to check on Parker. I found him scootering down the sidewalk full speed, singing at top volume a Queen song. He loves Queen and listens to Chris's cd constantly. The song he had chosen to sing was "Fat-Bottomed Girls." As he came closer I could hear that he had misunderstood the lyrics. He scootered towards me, grinning, singing, "Black-bottomed girls you make my rocking world go round."

Family Pictures from Hell

Today was family pictures day. I had carefully planned everything, so that we could have a positive experience and replace our current hideous family photo with something better. I picked the perfect time, 11:00. Enough time to let everyone get enough sleep, eat a good breakfast, and get beautiful, but also before the hungry lunchtime sleepy nap time crash. I requested our favorite photographer, pulled the outfits I wanted everyone to wear out of their closets (including Chris's) a week in advance so they wouldn't get worn. Ironing was even involved. (Of course not by me. I don't iron. Thank you, hubby.)

We still managed to be running late, so we started out a little grumpy. However, I got to the studio fifteen minutes late only to discover they had no record of the appointment I had made. This despite the fact the photographer, who's in our ward, vividly remembered booking it. They told us they could still take our pictures in about fifteen to twenty minutes. So we waited it out. At which point Deacon decided to pass the time by filling his diaper. I sent Chris out to the van for a diaper and wipes, and he returned with a diaper and three dried up wipes, one of which looked like it had already been used to wipe a dirty face. I attempted to change the diaper, but I had a few things going against me. One, Deacon decided to put his hand in the diaper and smear poo on his pants; and two this was not an ordinary three wipe diaper, but rather a seven plus wipe diaper. I ended up begging wipes off a total stranger in the restroom.

Then I returned to the studio where we continued to wait for an hour and a half! I thought about leaving, but I kept on thinking about all the effort required to dress my children and get them out the door, so I continued to wait. By the time we finally got back to get our pictures taken, everyone was hungry, tired, and super grumpy. Deacon kept walking out of the family photo. Parker wanted to lay down and go to sleep. McKay refused to move anywhere where the photographer told her to go. And Chris and I look livid. As we looked through the proofs, there was not a single photo where at least one person wasn't glaring angrily at the photographer. In a way it was hilarious to look through them. So we selected the least hideous picture, which is in all honesty, truly awful, and got out of there. But not before I spoke to the manager.

Apparently I'm slightly assertive or something. The other day Chris asked me why I wasn't better friends with someone in the ward, and I said, "She's too sweet and kind and meek."
"Yeah, she's nothing like you then," he replied reflexively.
"What are you saying? That I'm not kind?"
"Well, it's not the first word I would have picked."
"What would you have picked?"
"Strong-willed. Assertive. Self-confident. Opinionated. I don't think meek would have made the top one hundred."

So my assertiveness came out. I asked to speak to the manager. Then I asked her what kind of discount she was going to give me for making my family wait ninety minutes. (In a sweet, kind way. Really.) She told me she couldn't do anything because I wasn't in the computer. "Hmm," I told her, "since I made an appointment, and you still don't have me in the computer, please explain to me how that's my fault."

So to make a long story, slightly shorter, I got a 10x13, two 8x10's, a sheet of 5x7's, 3 x5's, and 2 wallets all for $4.99! All of a family photo I hate! But the best news--we don't have to do this again for one whole year! Yippee!

McKay's Perceptions

Yesterday McKay asks me, "How does Jesus go from heaven to earth?"
Me: "We don't really know."
Parker: "I think he takes a highway...a highway to heaven."
Chris: "Only Michael Landon takes that highway."
McKay: "I know the answer! He has faith."
Oh, thank you, McKay for putting us all in our place. I guess I'll have to believe you know what your talking about. So this next comment I heard from her in church must be true.
McKay pats my neck and says, "Mom, your neck is the most beautiful part of your whole body." Well, I guess I knew stomach wasn't going to be a contender for the number one spot.

Swine Flu

Parker is sick, and I think he has the swine flu. I don't know for sure, because I did not take him to a doctor. Doctors charge money to tell you your child has the swine flu, please take him home and put him to bed. Being perpetually poor, we skipped the doctor step, because we have something better and free--the Internet. Bless you WebMD, my family's other doctor. I went down the list of symptoms with Parker, and the poor kid had almost all of them. Since the swine flu is going around Parker's school and the ward, I was pretty sure I had accurately diagnosed him.

Now saying your child has the swine flu sounds much worse than saying your child has any old common variety of flu. It makes me sound like an amazing mom to have weathered the swine flu virus, when in all actuality I just kept the Tylenol and fluids down Parker and changed the DVDs every 90 minutes.

And now why I love being Mormon. My neighbor, Makenna, knocked on my door this morning asking for a ride to school. I told her I couldn't give her one, because Parker was sick, possibly with the swine flu. Ten minutes later I get a phone call from my next door neighbor, "I hear Parker has the swine flu. What can I do?" (Thank you, Makenna.) One hour later I get a call from my visiting teaching companion. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Do you need some soup or something?" A few hours later our home teacher and his wife knock on our door with homemade spice cake in hand. "I hear Parker has the swine flu. Here's some cake. What do you need?" I told no one from the ward that Parker was sick, but by the end of the day everyone knows. I love that. And I love cake. Poor Parker is too sick to eat any. But someone's got to eat it. And I did just do sixteen minutes and 38 seconds of "Dance of the Inches: Tummy Tone Party Zone" before I got sick of it and turned it off. I'll just add that to the job description of mother of swine flu patient--Tylenol dispenser, DVD switcher, cake eater. I've got this covered.

A Broken Home

September has been the month were everything we owned decided to break. Of course there was the broken mirror and the flat tire on the van. Then Deacon took a wedding picture of me and Chris and threw it on the ground, causing it to break. I looked at the picture of us smiling, now covered in a piece of shattered glass, and I said, "If I took a picture of this, I would call it 'A Broken Marriage.'" Chris said, "Please don't even joke about that. That breaks me heart." Well, it is the month to break things, so I would have gone ahead and taken that picture and posted it on my blog if my digital camera hadn't decided to break. Never fear, nothing fixes life's dilemma like chocolate, right? So when Parker asked for a chocolate milkshake, I pulled out the blender poured the ice cream and milk in and started pushing buttons. In theory this should create a milkshake, but in practice my blender decided to blow up.

But September is almost over, and we've also started to run out of things to break, so I thought we were in for a reprieve. Yesterday I loaded the kids into the van (after finding a new pair of shoes for McKay, since her old sandals broke.), and headed out to run errands. All was well until I got a call from Parker's school. "Mrs. Davis? Parker got hit in the face with a soccer ball at recess. His glasses broke in half." Of course they did.

One new pair of glasses later, Parker asked me if he could do some crazy little boy stunt. "No," I told him, "You will break your leg, and you are only allowed to break one thing per month." Chris who was listening, said, "Don't you think you should lengthen out his quota? A new month starts on Thursday." Dang it.

Deacon's Food Storage

In our house things disappear. This is because our house contains something that makes things go missing. That something is Deacon. I won't regale you with tales of all the things I have pulled out of the garbage and toilet. (Which, speaking of, currently won't flush, because something is stuck down it. I am fearful to find out what.)

Anyway, if something goes permanently missing, Deacon probably tossed it. As I was cleaning up the living room today, I noticed something lodged inside a speaker. I cautiously put my hand in and pulled out...a waffle. Hmm. When was the last time we had waffles? As we've been out of syrup for a week, it's been a while. Something else was in there. So I pulled out...another waffle. Also a small green ball and a rock. Dang. Nothing of value. I tossed the waffles in the garbage and continued on to cleaning the kitchen.

As I was wiping down the table, into the kitchen plowed Deacon happily munching on something. Hey, I hadn't given him a snack. What could he be eating? Not the...waffle? Yes. Yuck.

How to Get Out of Sacrament Meeting

During Sacrament meeting today, Parker asked me, "Can I go to the bathroom?"
"No. You already went. You're only allowed one potty break per sacrament meeting."
"But what if I pee my pants?"
"As you just went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago, I doubt that's going to happen."
"But--"
"No."
Sensing I wasn't going to budge on this one, he decided to change strategies. "I need to leave sacrament meeting for a different reason."
"What?"
"I just need some alone time."

My Mirror is Fixed and Other Mindless Tales

So as mentioned in an earlier post, I needed to fix the mirror on my van. Unfortunately, my mechanic could not fix it, because it needed a piece that he couldn't get, blah, blah, blah. So Chris came up with an ingenious way to fix it that involved washers, sawing off nails, etc. I'm not sure all the details, because while he was talking to me part of my brain was processing words like "washers" and the other part of my brain was thinking, "Where could I get a taco at this time of night?"

He got it put back together, but he needed something to keep it from shifting around. "I have it!" he exclaimed, "Bubblegum!" So I raided Parker's gumball machine, and we stuck a wad of it to the mirror. "Now, if my elementary school desks were any indication, this should harden up nicely," he explained. "Hey, are you going to blog about how I fixed your mirror?" "Let's see if it lasts 24 hours," I said.

So the next day, I got in the car to head to Albertsons. My mirror appeared to be working perfectly, so I backed up, and--I kid you not--whacked my mirror on that exact same evil wheelbarrow! I accused Chris of moving the wheelbarrow closer to the van, but he swears it's just me. Anyway, the chewing gum held, and my mirror did not fall off.

I made it to Albertsons, where I had just a few things to get, about six dollars worth. After she rang up my groceries, the cashier began scanning my coupons. (I know I'm blogging about grocery shopping again. Last time. Promise.) "O.k.," she said, "Your total is...wait a second I actually owe you $ .12. Hmm....I'm not supposed to give refunds at my register. I'm not sure what to do here." "Don't worry, you can keep the change," I told her, leaving with my free groceries. I'm not sure if I would call that an all-time cheapness high or low, but it did seem like a record-setting moment.

Wedding

Our neighbors across the street invited us to their wedding. Yes, they've been living together the entire time we've lived here. Try explaining that to a three year old.
McKay: "MaKenna's mom and dad aren't married?"
Me: "Ummm...."
McKay: "But you have to be married to get a baby in your tummy."
Me: "YES, yes you do. NEVER forget that."

Deacon was a wiggle worm through the wedding ceremony, but I managed to keep him relatively quiet. He did ask for "apple" a few times. The kid was hungry. And I may have blown a few of my bride-shaped bottle of bubbles during the vows to keep him entertained. Just a few. So when the minister announced it was time to kiss the bride, I was relieved we had made it through without much noise. However, as the guests looked on happily at the kissing bride and groom, the quiet romantic moment was interrupted by Parker's loud exclamation--"Disgusting!"

Driving Disasters

I should have realized today would be a bad driving day, when as I backed out of my driveway, my neighbor called, "You have a basketball stuck under your van."

Yes, I did. Thank you Deacon. I don't know why it didn't just roll away, but it was stuck. I had to do a series of driving forward and backward to finally get it free. I don't want to know what the neighbors thought. But I was on my way until I glanced in my mirror.

I accidentally took out my mirror on Wednesday, when I backed out of the garage and whacked into the wheelbarrow hanging on the wall. I was going to go get the mirror fixed this morning, so I just stuck it back in as best I could and started driving. Well, when I glanced into the mirror, I noticed it was pointing down, and therefore doing me no good, so I decided I would just push it up a little bit.

This was when my mirror fell off onto Meridian road. I had driven all of approximately one block. So I pulled over, turned on my flashers, and collected my mirror from the road, all without dying. This time I threw my mirror onto the passenger seat, deciding to get this fixed as soon as I filled the van up with gas.

I had been driving for a good two minutes when I heard an unusual sound out my window. My window was unrolled, because the air conditioner that I have now fixed twice (Good-bye $1200) is broken again. What now? I think. I'm beginning to think my van is falling to pieces, or possibly pieces are falling off of it again. Then the sound changes into a rhythmic thump, thump, and I have a good guess what's wrong. I pull into the Fred Meyer parking lot, and my suspicion is confirmed--I have a flat tire.

Our secondhand van did not come with a spare tire, and it never occurred to me to get one until this moment. I called Chris, who was in a meeting, and he told me he would help me take care of it after his meeting.

So for a good hour and a half, the kids and I roamed the aisles of Fred Meyer. I now know every single toy that Fred Meyer's carries, and which ones McKay would like for her birthday. (All the girl ones.) I also now own three cans of tuna, a bag of fun-size Snickers bars, and a pair of little girl Sunday shoes.

So my knight finally rode up in his glistening, unbroken, white car to rescue me. I drove home in said car, while he dealt with tow trucks, new tires, etc. I was so happy to be driving a functioning, air-conditioned vehicle. Though the occasional dinging sound was unnerving. (Note to self: Cars will periodically ding at you if you drive with the trunk open.) I was glad to be home with my bad car luck behind me. I let Deacon out of the car, and he instantly walked right into the open car door and whacked his head.

I have to pick Parker up from school in an hour and a half. I'm thinking we better walk.

Poo

Chris told me about the following interaction he had with Parker last night, and it cracked me up.

Parker: "Why do I always have to clean up Chewie's poo? Why can't mom do it?"
Chris: "Mom is busy taking care of the little kids."
Parker: "I could take care of them."
Chris: "Would you like to change Deacon's diaper?"
Parker: "Well..."
Chris: "Let me put it this way. You can either clean up poo with a shovel or with your hand."
Parker points his finger at Chris and says, "You've got a point."

Best Friends and Animal Cruelty

This is McKay with her bestest friend in the whole wide world, Gracie. Those girls are two peas in a pod. Gracie got to play with McKay this morning, and we have been counting down the days, hours, and minutes until she got here.

They spent most of the morning "loving" (a.k.a. torturing) the kitties. Sometimes I feel that God will hold me accountable for bringing those poor, defenseless animals into our home. One of these times was yesterday.

"McKay, why are the kitties wet?"

"I was playing doctor. I was the doctor and they were the patients."

"So why are they wet?"

"First I had to make them open up and say 'Ahhh."

"And...."

"Then they needed a shot. I didn't have a shot so I had to pour their shot on them."

And now you understand why all our previous cats have run away from our house.

First Day of School

Some children look forward to the first day of school. Parker isn't one of them. He does fine academically and socially. He just hates giving up all that playing time. Whenever any one asked him if he was excited for school, he responded, "I don't think my vacation was long enough." Yesterday he told me, "You know what was wrong with this summer vacation? All we did was work."

This morning Parker asks, "Mom, why are you taking my picture? You already took my picture on the first day of first grade."

As we are walking out the door, "Here goes another horrible day."

After school I ask, "How was school?"

Parker: "O.k."

Me: "What was the best part?"

Parker: "Recess."

McKay: "I missed you, Buddy, while you were at school."

Parker: "Someday you'll learn school isn't that great."

He's Going to Need a Bath

Water + Sand + Blood = One Very Dirty Little Boy

Which Came First?

As we were driving to the library, McKay asks, "Mom, Jesus made everything, right?"
"Right."
"So which did he make? Do he make a big chicken or did he put a baby chick inside a egg?"
"Ummm...."
Did she really just ask me which came first, the chicken or the egg?

Daily Chores

Chore Time. I collected Parker from the neighbor's house, where he was about to go swimming for the second time of the day. Of course the standard tears started. "I was about to go swimming, and now I have to do chores, and it will take forever, and I'll never get to go play at Jacob's again, and MY LIFE WILL BE RUINED."

McKay: "I don't like chores, either. I don't like things that take forever."

A Week's Worth of Pictures

Deacon hugging his cousin, Gideon.

The entire neighborhood playing in my backyard. Ever since we got the kittens, we have been the most popular house on the street. One day I was in the kitchen when I heard the front door open. I peeked out to see if Parker had coming in from playing, only to see my neighbor, Maddi, walking through my front door. She walked straight through, and out into the backyard where the kittens were, and where her sister was climbing over the fence. "Hello, Maddi," I called. She didn't respond. "Don't mind me. I just live here."

Nephi (Parker), Sam (McKay), and Lehi (Deacon) building a ship, shocking Laman and Lemuel, and sailing to the promised land.

Parker to McKay, "We only have one other righteous brother, Jacob."
Me: "That's not true you also have Joseph."

Parker: "He's not in the movie." (Living Scriptures)

Me: "Yes, but he's in the real scriptures."

Parker: "Are you sure?"

(Later there was weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth when told they had to clean up the ship.)

A mother quail and her chicks on my back fence.

McKay and Deacon being kitties. They ate their dinner on the floor, and drank their milk out of bowls.

Other events of the week not pictured: children sitting in comatose state in front of the t.v., Deacon dumping somewhere around 42 glasses of milk and water on the floor, daily meltdown at chore time, and the following conversation I had with McKay this morning.

McKay: "Mommy, I wish I didn't look like me. I wish I looked like my friends."

Me: "Why? You're beautiful."

McKay: "Because they have cuter clothes than me. Do these clothes you put on me even match?"

Please, please, please can I not go through this stage for eight, nine more years?

Reverence is, At the Very Least, Quietly Sitting

We have eleven o'clock church. This is not the best time for small children or a diabetic husband, because something occurs between the hours of eleven and two. That something is lunch. Usually we manage by having a snack before we leave the house, but today we were running late. Instead I passed out fruit snacks to eat in the car on the way to church.

This tided everyone over until somewhere in the middle of the sacrament, when Chris said his blood sugar was low. I was sure I had sugar in the van, so I ran out and found half a tube of liquid glucose that was no longer liquid. Not exactly an overflowing supply. So I ran back in, handed the tube to Chris to crunch on, and then got up to find my friend in the ward who also has a diabetic husband to beg sugar off her. When I got back to my family, McKay was having a meltdown because she was "so, so, so thirsty." Feeling that I should stay with Chris to make sure he lived through sacrament meeting, I sent Parker out with McKay. They were back in a few minutes with McKay still in meltdown mode, because Parker wasn't tall enough to lift her up. So back up I popped to take McKay out, with Deacon following at my heels. Drinks done, I sent McKay back in and stayed out in the hall with Deacon who was now having his very own meltdown. While I tried to calm Deacon, who should come walking out of the doors of the chapel, but Parker. "What are you doing?" I exclaimed. Parker shrugged. "I had to go to the bathroom."

Finally, Chris, Parker, and McKay are all sitting in Sacrament meeting, Deacon is running back and forth in the breezeway, and I have a chance to listen to the talks. The bishopric is having a special sacrament meeting about reverence. The first counselor has just stated that parents should teach their children that there is no reason they need to leave the chapel during sacrament meeting, when who should pop through the chapel doors, but my oldest son. "What now?!?"

"McKay stepped on a fruit snack, and there is fruit snack goo spread all over the floor. Dad sent me out for a wet paper towel."

So if you were counting--times we should leave sacrament meeting: zero; times Davis members got out of their seats: six. At this point it's now the Bishop's turn, and he is talking about attending a friend's ward last Sunday. He said the mom in front of him passed out Lunchables and Capri Suns to her children. Of course, I thought, this is the answer to the Davis family's need for reverence. If I bring Lunchables and Capri Suns next week, everyone will have food, a drink, and be happily contained for a good twenty, thirty minutes. This is the way to go! Then the Bishop burst my bubble by stating, "I think Cheerios are one thing. But meat product--that's going too far."

Dang. I wonder if they make vegetarian Lunchables...

Primary Activity

Parker and McKay had a primary activity, and they invited our neighbor, MaKenna, to come with them. On the drive to the church, however, Parker started getting nervous. "Mom, I don't think this is a good idea. MaKenna's not Mormon. I don't think she can come inside." I tried to reassure him that it was fine. Being the rule Nazi child that he is, he was anxious that it was against some sort of code. MaKenna was also trying to smooth things over with him. "I love Mormons. They're awesome. When I grow up I'm going to marry one." Parker thought this over for a second and said, "Well, you could marry me."

And this is when I realized my gospel teaching has been less than stellar. In Parker's mind it is much better to marry a non-member than allow one to step inside a Mormon church.

Coupon Crazy

I never used to coupon. I always said my time was worth more than the money I would save couponing. Then it struck me. What was I doing with my time? Changing diapers? Scrubbing toilets? Maybe couponing wouldn't be so bad...

So I started in on my couponing adventures, and before I knew it, I was addicted. It has become a game to see how much I can get for little to nothing. Chris can't understand how excited I get over grocery shopping. However, he was very supportive during the Dr. Pepper sale. When I got 4 12-packs of Diet Dr. Pepper for $1.22 (That price includes tax!), he told me, "This is the best thing you've ever got couponing!" So 28 cases later, we have our year supply of Caffeine-Free Diet Dr. Pepper. Hey, we're just trying to follow the prophet here.

But on to yesterday. I took a picture of all the groceries I bought. Chris told me, "Someday you're going to look back at that picture, and think, 'I'm such a dork.'" He's probably right. Here's the picture.

Guess how much this cost. O.k. before coupons it cost $32.22. Then I had $15 of coupons, so I paid $17.22. But wait--there's more! Then coupons for $15 of store vouchers printed off. So it was like I'd got all those groceries for $2.22. But wait--there's even more! Then a survey printed off, which I did online, which gave me two more dollars of free groceries! So I paid $17.22, and I now have coupons for $17 of free groceries. It's like I bought all those groceries for $.22!

O.k. I got that out of my system. Now I promise to never post the details of my grocery shopping trips again.

How the Davis Family Spends a Saturday

Deacon: Making the kittens wish for their quiet life before they met us.

McKay: Dancing with her ballet class at the Meridian Farmer's Market.

Parker: Whining about how much he hates doing chores.

Chris: Taking care of the kids and doing yard work to balance out the two days spent golfing this week.

Kodie: School clothes, school supplies, and grocery shopping. Highlight: Getting the supreme first parking spot, directly in front of the doors, Saturday night. That never happens to me. Walmart? Saturday? I almost took a picture, it was so amazing.

Could it get any more exciting at our house? Parking spots? Yard work? What a great day.

The Lackluster Lawn: A Tale of Woe

Our lawn has had a rough year. First the toadstool invasion. Then the irrigation system that provides water to our sprinkler system has been overwhelmed, causing little to no water throughout the summer. Then we discovered billbugs when we ripped our sod up to put in the hedge. Last night when I was emptying the kiddie pool, I stepped in something. A hole. More specifically, a vole hole. That's when I noticed something. There were a lot of holes. Since my children are the type to break their fingers in vole traps and eat poison for fun, we've decided to go the natural route. Free kittens.

We have bad luck with cats. They flee our house. The first kitten our neighbors stole. She told us, "Your cat was happier at our house then yours." Probably true. The next one lived with us for six months, before he followed Parker to school and never returned. But ever confident, that someday a cat will find us tolerable to live with, Parker and McKay each got a new kitten today. We'll see how long these ones last. As Chris put it, "If they keep running away, then we will be helping to start a feral cat colony that will keep the voles down anyway."

Our neighbor, MaKenna, and McKay holding her kitten, "KitKat."


Parker with his kitten "Bob."

I Have a Hedge Now

Putting in my hedge has made me realize how many nice people there are in the world. (Sorry in advance for cheesy post. I promise to return to my normal cynicism next time.) First, when the Home Depot guy noticed my overflowing cart of boxwoods, without being asked, he loaded all the shrubs into my cart and then into my van. Then when our neighbor saw Chris ripping out the sod, he came over and helped Chris rip it all out. The next night a different neighbor came over and moved our sprinkler heads for us. This left us with the odious task of planting 52 shrubs in what some refer to as "soil" but in all actually would be better called a "gravel pit." So with half our planting left to do, I came out in the 95 degree heat and attempted to dig something like thirty holes during Deacon's nap.

A half an hour, and one and half pathetic holes later, I was about to give up. That's when I noticed two guys approaching me. As you may or may not know, I live in a construction zone, and these were two workers on a break from working on the house across the street. "Do you need help?" they asked. This was when I began to justify my poor shoveling skills. "Well, the ground is so rocky, and it's so hot..." Of course these excuses were lost on people who had been laying cement in the heat of the day for several hours. One of the men took my shovel out of my hands without a word, and the other one asked if I had another. I quickly found one, and twenty minutes later all thirty holes were dug! I went inside to get them a drink, and when I came back out they had put all the shrubs into the holes! This from people I had never seen before, and who I have never seen since. The concrete was done, and they were gone the next day. Their kindness saved me like a million hours of work.

So, all this kindness towards me has inspired me to be a nicer person. I told Chris, "I'm going to start being a nice wife." To which he responded, "Honey, I love you just the way you are. And if you started being nice that just wouldn't be you." (He was joking.) (I think....)

One Big Happy Family

We just got back from a Davis family reunion. The reunion was a week jam-packed with activities and people, and in typical Kodie fashion, I left my camera in the suitcase for the majority of it. So, uh, no pictures of Bingo night, the baseball game, swimming, or seeing the Titanic museum exhibit. I'll just savor the memories... Here are some of the few pictures I managed to take.

The best part of the week was that Parker did not die. Now, Deacon is typically the child I find myself in ERs and doctor offices with, but Parker won the "most injured child" honor this week. Imagine driving a four wheeler at top speed into a metal building, and you will have pictured Parker's Thursday morning event. I am so glad I am an overly protective, slightly paranoid mother who made Parker be the only child wearing a helmet. Otherwise we would have ended up with injuries a lot worse then a seriously bruised wrist. And, yes, he's just fine now. His wrist is constantly hurting, we're on our second bottle of ibuprofen, he can't move it very well, but it's not broken. The downside is now I'm doing up zippers and buttons, opening doors, and seatbelting my seven year old in, because he can't move his arm. I keep trying to explain to him that he has two hands, but he's not convinced.

Happy Birthday Chris

McKay: "Is Daddy turning one?"

P.S. (Yes, that is a red bandanna and a headlamp strapped to his head.)

Deep Thoughts from McKay

The following questions falling from McKay's lips, have left me fumbling for an answer.

--Does Jesus like spicy food?

--How do ladybugs sleep?

--If you put powder, water, and a balloon together what would you make?

--How about water, Legos, and throw-up?

Parker Turns Seven

Wednesday was Parker's seventh birthday. Not to brag, well actually to brag, the Transformers party I threw for Parker was fairly impressive. Not as impressive as the mess afterwards, however.

Kodie the Brave

Big Announcement: Today I killed a hobo spider.

I am not a spider-killer by profession for a good reason--spiders are creepy. So usually when I see a spider I call Chris to kill it. If he's not here, then I go far away from the spider, pretending it doesn't exist. However, when I saw a hobo spider in my kids' outdoor toy box, I knew I had to act. The thought of the hobo mistaking my children's hands as spider food was terrifying. So I grabbed the closest available weapon, a plastic purple child-size garden hoe, and tried bludgeoning the thing. Here's something you may not know: Hobos are very fast spiders. The creature was zipping all around the box, over balls and bats and through toy trucks. I chased it with my hoe, screaming the entire time, but to no avail. So I ran to the garage, grabbed some insect poison and began dousing it. It would not die. Finally, about half a gallon of bug spray later, it started to slow. I decided I would have to go for the spider squash. I hate squishing bugs, because often they have a Lazarus-like quality. Just when you think they're dead and your screams have subsided, Bam! Up they pop. But I gathered up every last morsel of courage, and squished that spider. Eeewww! I still have goose bumps.

I have conquered the spider. And the toy box is once again safe. That is, it will be safe once the gallon of poison dries....

Strong

Parker was sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch when the whining began. "I have eczema and asthma and a lazy eye. If you made a list of everything that was wrong with me, I bet there would be one hundred things. Why does it happen to me?"

Sensing a great teaching moment, I explained, "Heavenly Father gives you those things to make you stronger. If you learn from those things, you will be a stronger person."

A big grin spreads across Parker, and I am thinking, I am such a great mom right now. This totally cancels out me yelling at him to stop driving me crazy before I paddled his bum. My inner celebration is soon cut short. Parker lifts up the sleeve of his shirt, makes a muscle, and asks, "O.k. how much stronger am I now?"

My First and Last Short Haircut

The girl who was cutting my hair asked, "So what made you decide to go short?" I replied, "I looked in the mirror, decided I looked hideous, and figured I couldn't look worse." She didn't crack a smile, rather she pursed her lips together in concentration. And then I knew. She was taking my words as a personal challenge. If there was a way to make me look worse she would do it, so help her.

And she did. I HATE this haircut so much. It will grow. It will grow...

A Heavenly Conversation

Parker: "I hope there are high definition televisions in heaven."
Mom: "You won't need a t.v. You'll be too busy."
Parker: "Doing what? Playing a trumpet?"
Mom: "No, like doing missionary work."
Parker: "Yes! Does this mean I get a name tag?"

Reverent Prayer

Tonight at the dinner table, Chris called on McKay to pray. It went something like this: "Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the food. Thank you for mommy, daddy, Buddy, Deacon." Then she lets out quite possibly the loudest burp of her life. Pausing only long enough to let the burp escape, "Thank you for my doll, Dora. Thank you that we get to go to Nana and Papa's condo. I mean Idaho Falls house on....(whispering) What day are we going there?"
To which Chris whispers back, "Tuesday."
"Tuesday."
At this point Parker whispers, "Next Tuesday."
Loudly, "I already said Tuesday, Buddy."
Parker, "You didn't say next Tuesday."
Louder, "I did too, say Tuesday!"
Chris prompting, "In the name..."
McKay, "In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Chris the Awesome

Every time I tell Chris I posted on my blog, he asks me, "Did you blog about how awesome I am?" (I am not kidding about this.) So in honor of Father's Day, here is a post about how awesome Chris is.

1. When I am eating and reading in bed at night, he looks at me and says, "Are you getting crumbs in my bed again?" Then he brushes the crumbs towards my side of the bed and makes the crummy bed in the morning.

2. He truly believes I don't know how to start the lawnmower. Times I have mowed the lawn in eight years of marriage--zero.

3. He picks up the towel I carelessly toss on the floor every morning and hangs it up.

4. He hung his Stinker Station bumper stinker that reads, "Ask me about my gas," on the wall of the garage, and not on his car.

5. Today I had to fill out a reimbursement form for Activity Days. "I'm not doing this for you again," he told me. The next hour he handed me the form. "But I'm not filling it out." So I wrote my name on it, checked the box for activity days, and then I realized something dreadful. This form required me to do math! Aaagghhh! I am math-impaired. "Chris," I said, handing him the form, "I can't figure out the tax."
"Well, what's six percent of $7.98?"
"If I knew that I wouldn't be handing you this form to finish for me."

6. He taught me the trick to getting Deacon to fall asleep is to sing, "If You Could Hie to Kolob." I have no idea why this works, but Deacon's eyelid's start drooping as he contemplates the meaning of "hie," and he is snoozing by the time we get to "...there is no end to this song..."

7. He understands if I want M&M's, rocky road ice cream, or tacos at 9:30 at night, it is his duty to get in the car and go find me some.

8. He realizes this post is going to count as the Father's Day card I did not give him today.

Little Red Hen

I have spent the past week playing with my family. Our whole family was together, with the exception of my little brother Jace, who arrives home from his mission September 30th, 6:04 p.m. (But who's counting?) Anyway, this family reunion prompted me to be all Mormony. My sister, my mom, and I decided to make homemade jam.

Now usually I make freezer jam, because I am pretty skilled when it comes to stirring. If you've ever made freezer jam, you know that all you do is stir the ingredients together, pour the jam in containers, and pop them in the freezer. This is the extent of my home canning, because other types of canning requires a little something I call "effort." I would much rather lay on the couch and read my book while ignoring my children. But somehow, this whole Mormon canning adventure appealed to me, so I decided to try it.

First we picked the cherries. Very fun.

Then we cleaned the cherries, pitted the cherries, pureed the cherries, pulled the pits we missed out of the cherry puree, sugared and cooked the jam, poured it in the bottles, applied lids, rings, and then plunged it in the canner for a hot water bath. This took something called "time." I felt like the Little Red Hen, by the end of the process. If only I'd grown the cherry tree myself....

Now, surprisingly, this did not suck. My sister, my mom, and I were having a fun time. We were like jean wearing pioneers. If we'd been singing, "As Sisters in Zion," I'm sure our eternal salvation would have been a done deal.

To finish on a sweet note--the cherry jam I had for breakfast this morning was so yummy. Totally worth the effort. And now I think I hear a book calling me.....

Ballerina

McKay's first ballet class was today. Is there anything as cute as a three year old ballerina?