Pumpkins

Anne. Her clothes are wet with the milk she poured on herself during dinner.



Claire with ketchup on her chin. Ketchup is a staple for her.



Damon with his pumpkin, carving designed and partially done by himself.

Disturbing

I love Halloween, but it is a weird holiday. It's strange how tightly we Americans hold onto this pagan/early Christian celebration or whatever it is.

In the store this skeleton seemed like a fun decoration, and it has been. The kids love it. But Jake pointed out that it's sick to have a child-sized skeleton. I told him that proportionally it is an adult. But he's right. It's sick.

Milestones

On Monday Anne started putting two words together: she said, "Bye, daddy" when Jake went to work, and she said, "Mommy hair" while she pulled my hair.

Last Monday was also the second Monday in a row in which I washed, dried, FOLDED AND PUT AWAY 4 loads of laundry. I can't tell you proud I am of myself. I hate laundry, but it has to be done, so I'm going to do it, by golly.

If I had been able to look into the future 6 years ago and see this day when getting laundry done made me proud, I would have been very depressed at what the future held for me.

Perspective is everything.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

Please, everyone, stop telling Claire she's beautiful.

I occasionally find her staring at herself in a mirror. Today, as she gazed into her own eyes, she said, "My eyes are perfect, and my nose is perfect, and my mouth is perfect."

Love at Home

Anne was born a little too soon for Claire's comfort, and has not made it into Claire's heart yet.

Claire was sitting at a child-size table this morning having an imaginary birthday party. Anne came to sit down with her and Claire pushed her away.

"Can't Anne come to the party?" I asked.

"No. Anne is not welcome to the pahty." (Too bad we're not still back East. Claire's inability to pronounce r's would have fit right in.) "But Penelopede is welcome to the pahty," Claire said.

The pet millipede is curled up dead at the bottom of his container. Claire says he is sleeping.

Damon Quotes

Regarding his part for the primary program, which they practiced today: "I said it all. I didn't leave out a single atom."

Batman is one of our favorite super heroes. He and his cohorts are frequently the topic of conversation. Damon: "Is Commissioner Gordon real?" Me: "No, but police commissioners are real." Damon, exasperated: "I KNOW police commissioners are real. There's a commissioner on Word Girl." (If you don't watch PBS Kids, you're realling missing out. They have the finest kids' programming.)

Perspective

After my rant, I starting reading lesson 19 in the Joseph Smith manual. It talks about how he was up all night with his 11-month-old who had the measles and had just gone to bed, when a mob broke in the house, dragged him outside, tore his clothes off, and tarred and feathered him. Really makes my feminist gripes seem petty. In a country where women vote, wear trousers and not corsets, and the "rule of thumb" is a figure of speach and not a guideline for beating your wife, I don't have much to complain about.

The Raging Feminist

There's a raging feminist that lives in my heart. She has two sources of regular irritation:

1. Shaving. Why is women's body hair disgusting but men's is okay?

2. Bra shopping. She hardly needs one, but for the sake of modesty and comfort, would like to have one that fits. The only ones that come close are so thickly padded they completely change her topography. She's not ashamed of being flat chested. How dare bra makers assume that she is?

Now she has a new one:

3. The treatment Sarah Palin and Hilary Clinton receive. It shouldn't be so funny and acceptable to turn Palin into a sex object. I just heard a strip joint in Las Vegas is looking for Palin look-alikes. Is she no longer a human being with feelings because she's attractive? And why do people speak with such derision of Clinton's ambitions? What's wrong with a woman wanting to be President? I guess when she said something about "not choosing to stay home and bake cookies" was justified. Maybe she wasn't insulting those of us who do, just trying to defend herself and others who choose a different path.

Joe the Plumber

Here, here, Joe the Plumber! I like that guy.

All Creatures Great and Small

Last night Claire found a millipede in our house. She picked it up, despite my disgusted protests. I didn't want to Claire to think she grossed me out, so I asked if I could take a picture of her holding it. She said, "Yes, he's my friend."

After the picture I said, "Let's take him oustide so he can find a nice home." Claire said, "No. This is his home." So she put him in a container and now she has a pet.

Unfortunately/Fortunately he wasn't dead when we woke up, and she's been carrying him around all morning. We had to do some research on what they eat. It turns out Claire's not the only person in the world who keeps a pet millipede (or Penelopede, as she calls it). You learn something new every day.

Snow Family

It snowed a little bit in the night. The kids wanted to make a snowman. I told them there wasn't enough snow. I guess I was wrong.

greed and materialism

These houses have two things in common: I like them and I can't afford them. I've decided to suspend my househunting until I can afford what I like, so I guess we'll just rent for the next 10 years.

Moms can't get sick

I came home from church sick yesterday, and went straight to bed. Anne missed me and kept coming upstairs and calling "Mommy! Mommy!" outside my bedroom door. Claire completely reversed her potty training and urinated twice on the floor. That may not have been due to my being out of commission, but Jake has not read the potty-training books that instruct how to react to accidents, so I hope Claire isn't mentally scarred now.

On the bright side, Damon asked, "Is there anything I can do for you, Mommy?" He kept bringing me glasses of water. (When he was sick last week I brought him things to drink while he was in bed.) I'll try to remember how sweet he was next time he throws a screaming fit and I want to take him to my parents' house to live.

Anne

This is our darling Anne. She's almost 18 months old. She's a remarkably active child with a cheerful disposition, provided she's allowed to do whatever she wants to do.


She's something of a tease: she loves to grab whatever Claire is playing with and run away with it laughing. She is very affectionate, except when you ask for a kiss or a hug--that's when she smiles, shakes her head, and says, "No!"


Her words include: no, uh-huh, uh-oh, mommy, dada, Ceh (Claire), Anne, mine, cracker, cookie, nana (banana), no (nose), up, down, poop, bum, yuck, and mik (milk).

Claire

This is our darling Claire.

Thank you, Jessica, for the wonderful pictures. People tell me all the time how great they are.

Claire is three and is my most independent child. She can play by herself for quite a while in her make-believe world. She is very attached to certain things, like her thumb, which is often in her mouth, and her froggy, whom she put to bed in some Go Fish cards last night.

She loves her teddy bear most of all. She tucks him in bed with her.

I frequently find toys tucked into bed in stranger places, like under wash cloths or under the contact paper in cupboards. The Go Fish cards is a new one.

October 8, 2008

Here we are taking advantage of the photographer Lynsey (my sister) hired for Zannah's special day. Zannah, the sweet little girl Lynsey and Marcus adopted, was sealed to them last month.

This is Zannah with my maternal grandparents.

We looked at three houses yesterday located in the Malad of this area. The interiors were all great, but I want a house whose exterior has character as well as being attractive. I'll let you know if that's possible for a middle-class family if I continue the house-hunt much longer. As the Great Depression II threatens, we are feeling less inclined to buy a home.

When the kids and I returned from the grocery story today, Damon found two grasshoppers working on multiplying and replenishing the earth. He only has a one volume, which is loud, and he announced to all the neighbors, "Hey, these two grasshoppers are holding on to each other! Look at these two grasshoppers holding each other!" A good parent would have taken this opportunity to talk about the facts of life in an open, positive manner. But like the coward I am, I just said, "Yep, but try to talk softer. You're too loud." I promised myself to do the right thing next time: if I don't have this conversation with my kids, someone else (like a classmate) will.

October 7, 2008

Last night for FHE we wrote two letters. One was to Jake's grandparents who are in the midst of tribulation--Grandma P's legs aren't working. Claire drew a lovely abstract picture with crayons for them. Anne used the crayons to draw on whatever sufaces were most convenient to her.

The other letter was to Damon's kindergarten teacher (he had asked to write her a letter earlier that evening, and since I had no FHE planned, I turned his letter request into our FHE). Here is what Damon dictated to me:

Dear Mrs. C:

You are my favorite teacher. Thanks for all the treats
and I really like to play the alphabet game where all
the letters are on the tray.

When I was in pre-school I put my handprint
on a piece of paper and my teacher turned it into a real plate.

My birthday is coming up in March.

Damon

He then decorated the letter with hearts and "I [heart drawing] U" and enclosed one of his pennies in the envelope.

He really does have an excellent teacher. I've seen her interact with Damon's class, and I have never seen a more cheerful, loving, enthusiastic teacher. I asked Damon if she ever gets upset (because I can't picture her getting angry, but she must, because she works with 20 5-year-olds every day). He says she is always nice to them. I wonder what her secret is.

This afternoon our realtor is taking us on our third house-hunting excursion. It's just me and the kids, so each trip has been exhausting (getting kids in and out of carseats, pleading with them not to wreck the houses and to stay with me, etc.) I've also been pretty disappointed. Everything looks so much better on the internet. Plus, I'd really like a home that's not a cookie-cutter. But, the only homes we can afford that are not cookie cutters, are old and need work, so we really can't afford them. I have a feeling my realtor is going to end up hating me: I foresee months of looking at houses, none of which I will like, and she will have been kind to and patient with my children for nothing.