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?

Oops

I looked out my bedroom window, and I could see Parker tossing a ball up in the air and hitting it with a bat. I heard thunder and thought, I'm going to take out my contacts and then make him come in.

Three seconds later I hear a loud noise followed by crying. Great, I thought, he's already been struck by lightning.

I raced down the stairs to find a sobbing Parker, "I'm so sorry, mom. I'm so sorry, mom. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For breaking the window with a baseball."

Hmmm. Not was I was expecting. Through his tears I reassured him that I still loved him and that dad wouldn't kill him. McKay did her best to help to, "Look, Buddy, mom's not yelling at you. She's not being mad at you. See, Buddy?"

Once he calmed down, I started the questioning. "Why were you hitting the ball towards the house?"

"I had to mom. I was at home plate." "Home plate" is a big yellow rectangle on the sidewalk, right next to our fire hydrant.

"But, Parker, haven't I told you that you could break a window if you did that?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know I could hit it that good."

"Umm-hmm."

Parker tearing up,"I'm going to be paying for this window until I'm eight."

"Also, no front yard baseball. Only backyard baseball with wiffle balls."

Crying, "But I LOVE baseball!"

A minute later, "Since I'm having such a rough day I think I should be able to stay up an hour past my bedtime."

The Damage

Parker at "Home Plate" on a happier day.