Thems Fightin' Words

With the slam of the front door, I hear Parker huffing up the stairs.

"What's wrong?" I ask my agitated son.

"Kaleb and I aren't friends anymore."

"Because?"

"Because he said some mean things, so I said some mean things, so he said some mean things, so I said some mean things."

"It's not acceptable to say mean things to someone."

"But he---"

"Even if he says something mean first. Do you understand?"

I get a mumbled non-response.

"So what mean things did you say to Kaleb?" I ask, wondering if this is going to involve me marching Parker down the street to apologize.

"I said that the BSU football players suck."

Hmm. "What else?"

Parker pauses, anticipating what my response might be. I guess he decides I can handle it, so his mouth opens and unleashes the ultimate insult.

"I said he played ball like a girl."

Lost in Translation

"Mom," Deacon asked me, "how do you wash whips?"

"Like a cowboy whip?"

"No--whips."

"A whip like this?" I ask, pretending to be Indiana Jones.

"No. How do you wash whips?"

I'm stuck. I cannot figure out what kind of a whip Deacon is asking me about, but I figure you must wash all whips pretty much the same.

"I guess you would get a bucket with soapy water--"

"No! Not whips, WHIPS! How do you wash WHIPS?!?"

Recognition dawns on me. "Oh, lips. You want to know how to wash lips?"

"Yes. Whips."

"With a washcloth."

"Oh. How do you wash awms?"

Crazy Mother

"Parker," McKay told her brother, "Livy is so lucky! At her house her mom makes sandwiches on white bread and asks you if you want the crusts cut off."

"Lucky!"

Apparently McKay knows good mom behavior when she sees it. Yesterday I was lying in bed reading a book, when McKay came and cuddled up next to me.

"What is your book about?" she asked.

"It's about being a mom," I told her.

"Does that mean your going to stop being crazy and start being a mom?"

Fractured Happiness

My sister, Emily, called me the other day. "I hear you got a stress fracture in your leg. I'm impressed. That's so hardcore."

I responded, "Would you be less impressed if you knew I injured my leg playing Just Dance 3?"

The Reader's Digest version of "Kodie Fractures Her Leg" goes something like this. A few weeks ago after an intense Just Dance competition with my sister, Riki, my leg began killing me. I thought I had shin splints, so I toned down the exercise for awhile. My leg seemed to be feeling better, all was well in Zion, and the sun was shining on Monday morning when I decided to go for a run. My leg instantly began to hurt, but I pushed through my pain, finished my run, and returned home. At which point, I laid on the floor of my closet whining loudly about how much my leg hurt. Fast-forward one doctor's visit later, and I have an official stress fracture diagnosis.

Being as it is an ever so tiny stress fracture, I don't have a cast or crutches. I have to choke down a lot of chalky tasting calcium chews and wear an aircast when I exercise, but that's about it. It has actually come in handy a few times already.

"Well, I'd like to carry McKay up to her bed, but you know my leg is broken...."

However, in Parker's mind, only good has come from it. First, I had to get myself a better pair of running shoes. (I guess wearing shoes you've had since 2004 to run in is a bad idea.)

"Mom, your new shoes are awesome! They're just like the one's the BYU women's volleyball team wears!"

Seriously? Does anyone besides my son know that? That's what I call a sickness.

"Kids," I announced at dinner, "since dad will be out of town on Valentine's Day, I'm taking you all out to McDonald's for half-price Happy Meals."

"Yay!" Parker cheered. "I love it when mom breaks her leg!"

I fail to see how those two events relate, but I'm glad I could bring so much happiness into Parker's life.

We are the Champions

"So, um, sorry, mom, but the floor in my bedroom is pretty much soaking," Parker tells me tonight.

"Because?"

"We won the championship!"

"What championship?"

"The basketball championship."

"Are we talking about the Nerf basketball hoop over your closet door and the neighborhood kids filling up your bedroom?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations. Why is your floor wet?"

"I got so excited, I had to pour my water bottle over Kaleb's head--you know, Bronco Mendenhall style."

Obviously.

Cabin Fever

Today Deacon looked out the window and asked, "Hey, who cancelled summer?" Apparently he is done with winter.

The doorbell rang, and Parker's friend, Kaleb, bounded in with the announcement, "It's hot out there! It's like 80 degrees!"

"It's 46 degrees outside," I told him.

"Nah, it's got to be close to 80. Come on Parker, you don't need a jacket."

"It's February," I explained. "Jackets aren't optional."

"MOM, it's HOT outside. I'll sweat in a jacket."

The doorbell rang again, and McKay's friend, Maddi, comes bursting in without shoes on.

I guess I'm the only one delusional enough to believe February still qualifies as winter.

The Best Reason to Home School...

Everyone in the Treasure Valley had school today. But when you home school, your mom can call a snow day. So I did.

If the snow looks sparse in these pictures, it's because they were taken early this morning. My kids were outside with the first snowflakes and have only been inside long enough to create several loads of dripping wet laundry and drink our year's supply of hot chocolate.

My favorite part of the day was taking the kids sledding. As Parker started careening wildly down the hill, he called out, "S.O.S.!!! Save our sled!"