Friday, March 20, 2009
Afternoon
Sent RoboParker to school. Gave Deacon and McKay Benadryl. Enjoyed quiet afternoon while children took drug-induced naps. Wonderful.
Morning
Deacon was crying. McKay was crying. I had just finished cleaning up the spilled children's tylenol, when Deacon knocked my glass of milk to the ground, spilling milk everywhere. Parker, who had refused to get dressed and was instead pulling on knee pads, elbow pads, and wrist pads in order to turn himself into RoboParker, looked up and said, "Wow, mom, you're having a really bad morning." Ahh, thanks for noticing RoboParker.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Dog
At Parker's football game on Saturday, someone had a pen of puppies they were selling. This prompted McKay to beg for a puppy and then throw an hour long fit when she didn't get one. The begging continued through Sunday, so to get her to drop the subject, I told her she could have a puppy when Chewie died. She seemed happy with that arrangement, and I felt happy I had just bought five to ten years of puppy peace.
This morning McKay woke up happy. She bounded up to me, jumped in my arms, and with a big smile on her face asked, "Did Chewie die?" I have never seen a girl so disappointed to find out her beloved family pet was still alive.
This morning McKay woke up happy. She bounded up to me, jumped in my arms, and with a big smile on her face asked, "Did Chewie die?" I have never seen a girl so disappointed to find out her beloved family pet was still alive.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Jungle Kids
In order to stop getting annoying letters from our HOA reminding us to plant trees, our family took off on a quest to find Sand Hollow Nursery today. The flyer promised the amazing deal of two trees and eight shrubs for $100, so we decided to check it out.
First we had to find it. Here is how to find it: Drive to Caldwell. Drive until Caldwell ends. Follow handwritten signs down a dirt lane. Drive past laundry hanging on fence and trees. Avoid hitting roosters. Reach a dead end, a million trees, and a sign that reads "Please Honk."
Once we honked, out came the most weathered woman I have ever seen. She had obviously spent a lot of time gardening. Not only did she look it, but she knew her stuff. Chris and I couldn't decide what we wanted. We walked around looking at a lot of trees for an hour and a half, while Parker and McKay complained about how bored they were and Deacon ate rocks he found on the ground. $100 later we owned a Weeping Cherry tree, an Autumn Blaze Maple tree, two ornamental grasses, a lilac bush, and five boxwoods. Now how to get it home in a minivan filled with three children, two lawn chairs, a stroller for McKay's doll, a purse and diaper bag. Chris, the master packer, did it. I had to take a picture. While I was taking it, Parker said, "Hey, you could call this picture 'Jungle Kids.'" That child has grown up with a scrapbooking mom.
When we arrived home at 5:30, the smart thing to do would have been to plant our cherry tree, as it was bareroot. This is what we did instead: changed two poopy diapers, feed Deacon, ran errands, went to the store, fed family, talked to neighbors, rode scooters, played in the sand with friends, played baseball, and played soccer. Once dinner was over, and the sun was mostly set, Chris decided it was time to start digging. Unlike our Orem neighbors, our Idaho ones aren't used to us gardening by flashlight yet. But they got their first dose of Davis gardening tonight. It was definitely dark by the time we finished up.
So, yay for a sunshiney spring Saturday! I've been waiting months for this.
First we had to find it. Here is how to find it: Drive to Caldwell. Drive until Caldwell ends. Follow handwritten signs down a dirt lane. Drive past laundry hanging on fence and trees. Avoid hitting roosters. Reach a dead end, a million trees, and a sign that reads "Please Honk."
Once we honked, out came the most weathered woman I have ever seen. She had obviously spent a lot of time gardening. Not only did she look it, but she knew her stuff. Chris and I couldn't decide what we wanted. We walked around looking at a lot of trees for an hour and a half, while Parker and McKay complained about how bored they were and Deacon ate rocks he found on the ground. $100 later we owned a Weeping Cherry tree, an Autumn Blaze Maple tree, two ornamental grasses, a lilac bush, and five boxwoods. Now how to get it home in a minivan filled with three children, two lawn chairs, a stroller for McKay's doll, a purse and diaper bag. Chris, the master packer, did it. I had to take a picture. While I was taking it, Parker said, "Hey, you could call this picture 'Jungle Kids.'" That child has grown up with a scrapbooking mom.
When we arrived home at 5:30, the smart thing to do would have been to plant our cherry tree, as it was bareroot. This is what we did instead: changed two poopy diapers, feed Deacon, ran errands, went to the store, fed family, talked to neighbors, rode scooters, played in the sand with friends, played baseball, and played soccer. Once dinner was over, and the sun was mostly set, Chris decided it was time to start digging. Unlike our Orem neighbors, our Idaho ones aren't used to us gardening by flashlight yet. But they got their first dose of Davis gardening tonight. It was definitely dark by the time we finished up.
So, yay for a sunshiney spring Saturday! I've been waiting months for this.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Honest Repentance
Parker would not stop teasing his sister, so I said, "That's it. You just lost t.v. for the rest of the day."
Parker exclaimed, "I'm sorry. I promise never to do it again. Ever .......unless I forget. But I WON'T forget! At least not for awhile...."
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Mood Swing
Today I woke up on the wrong side of the bed--both literally and figuratively. My day started at about midnight when McKay woke up screaming that her ear hurt. She couldn't be comforted and didn't want medicine. "What day is it?" she demanded. "Saturday," I told her. "Aaaahhh! I'm still wearing my Friday panties! I need to change right now!" When I wouldn't let her, she became inconsolable, screaming at the top of her lungs. About this time Parker came into our bed having an asthma attack. After medicating our two children, Chris took McKay down to the couch to sleep with him, so that I could put the, now awake and screaming, Deacon back to sleep. Needless to say, I woke up at six sleepy and grumpy.
My mood didn't improve, because my husband had to attend a work function from 8-10 in the morning, leaving me with three whiney, cranky kids to get ready for Parker's football game. Now sick kids need an extra measure of love and patience, which is exactly what they did not get from me. I won't say that I swore at them, but that's because I've found that screaming, "Damnation!" is biblical and more like quoting scripture than swearing. So I just quoted a little scripture at them when McKay picked up her bacon, flung it across the room and yelled, "I said I wanted a waffle. NOT BACON!" Ahhh, you could feel the love in the Davis house this morning.
My mood didn't improve, because my husband had to attend a work function from 8-10 in the morning, leaving me with three whiney, cranky kids to get ready for Parker's football game. Now sick kids need an extra measure of love and patience, which is exactly what they did not get from me. I won't say that I swore at them, but that's because I've found that screaming, "Damnation!" is biblical and more like quoting scripture than swearing. So I just quoted a little scripture at them when McKay picked up her bacon, flung it across the room and yelled, "I said I wanted a waffle. NOT BACON!" Ahhh, you could feel the love in the Davis house this morning.
But then we arrived at the park for Parker's flag football game, my mood changed. Why is it so fun to watch six year olds play football? I have no idea, but it is. After the football game, we swung over to Chris's parents' condo to celebrate his dad's birthday. McKay was very excited to give her Papa a Strawberry Shortcake DVD and princess crown. So excited in fact, she asked to sleep with the wrapped present the night before. We had fun with family, and then headed over to the Idaho Center to watch a high school state championship basketball game. Chris's cousin's husband (got the connection?) is an assistant coach for the Pocatello team. They lost by one point in overtime. Despite the loss, the game was fun. And now all three kids are asleep, and I am going to go to bed so I can get a good hour of sleep before my children's medication wears off. What a wonderful ending to a horrible beginning.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Wal-Mart Woes
Wal-Mart makes me grumpy. I spend too much time and money in that store. I feel my blood pressure rising just walking through those doors. So in January, I made a decision--I was done with Wal-Mart. I would send Chris if I needed something vital, but otherwise I would do all my shopping at other stores. I have been Wal-Mart-free since January, and it has been wonderful. But today, I gave in and went back to the blue and yellow devil.
I had just gone to get Deacon's hair cut. (See picture.) I needed groceries, and I was so close to Wal-Mart, that I didn't see the sense in driving clear across town to Winco. I rationalized I just needed a few things, so it wouldn't be so bad.
I started off great. I got the vitals like Barbie band-aids and conditioner, and then headed up the loop towards groceries. Of course Wal-Mart doesn't put groceries next to toiletries, so I had to go by several departments including toys (one Littlest Pet Shop later), shoes (hello football cleats), and clothing. At which point I got sidetracked by a large clearance display of Parker sized shirts. Deacon was screaming at this point, so I held him while searching for size seven shirts, which were thrown together with every other size of shirt in no particular order. But for $2 each, I started sorting and tossing shirts into the cart. Finally, I realized--What the hey-diddle am I doing? I have been in boys' clothing for a good thirty minutes. Aaagh. I had to move on. Get out. On to baby food. Hand Deacon a bottle of Puffs and speed-shop it through grocery with McKay singing a made-up song on the top of her lungs. I was almost done when I realized I was in charge of drinks for Parker's football game. Backtracked but not beaten, I got the juice boxes and headed for the deli to get McKay some popcorn chicken for lunch. Deacon was crying, but I just kept shoving Puffs down his throat. The finish line was in sight. On to the check-out line. I began pulling groceries out of the cart, when I heard an "Oops." McKay had dumped her popcorn chicken all over the floor. So not to be outdone, Deacon took his bottle of Puffs and poured them all over the floor. I asked the cashier to send "one of those sweepy-guys" while I continued to empty my cart. That's when I hit the Parker clearance clothes. I realized my sense of cheapness had overpowered my sense of taste, and I began weeding out some of the clothes. It might only be $2, but a bright green Alvin and the Chipmunks shirt? Really, what was I thinking? "These are hideous," I explained to the clerk. She looked at me like, please, please leave line. Which we did. After I picked up my credit cards that Deacon had tossed onto the floor. $118 and an hour and a half later, I reinstated my original vow never to go back to Wal-Mart again.
I had just gone to get Deacon's hair cut. (See picture.) I needed groceries, and I was so close to Wal-Mart, that I didn't see the sense in driving clear across town to Winco. I rationalized I just needed a few things, so it wouldn't be so bad.
I started off great. I got the vitals like Barbie band-aids and conditioner, and then headed up the loop towards groceries. Of course Wal-Mart doesn't put groceries next to toiletries, so I had to go by several departments including toys (one Littlest Pet Shop later), shoes (hello football cleats), and clothing. At which point I got sidetracked by a large clearance display of Parker sized shirts. Deacon was screaming at this point, so I held him while searching for size seven shirts, which were thrown together with every other size of shirt in no particular order. But for $2 each, I started sorting and tossing shirts into the cart. Finally, I realized--What the hey-diddle am I doing? I have been in boys' clothing for a good thirty minutes. Aaagh. I had to move on. Get out. On to baby food. Hand Deacon a bottle of Puffs and speed-shop it through grocery with McKay singing a made-up song on the top of her lungs. I was almost done when I realized I was in charge of drinks for Parker's football game. Backtracked but not beaten, I got the juice boxes and headed for the deli to get McKay some popcorn chicken for lunch. Deacon was crying, but I just kept shoving Puffs down his throat. The finish line was in sight. On to the check-out line. I began pulling groceries out of the cart, when I heard an "Oops." McKay had dumped her popcorn chicken all over the floor. So not to be outdone, Deacon took his bottle of Puffs and poured them all over the floor. I asked the cashier to send "one of those sweepy-guys" while I continued to empty my cart. That's when I hit the Parker clearance clothes. I realized my sense of cheapness had overpowered my sense of taste, and I began weeding out some of the clothes. It might only be $2, but a bright green Alvin and the Chipmunks shirt? Really, what was I thinking? "These are hideous," I explained to the clerk. She looked at me like, please, please leave line. Which we did. After I picked up my credit cards that Deacon had tossed onto the floor. $118 and an hour and a half later, I reinstated my original vow never to go back to Wal-Mart again.
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