We got to the part with the angel shining brightly, and B#3 interrupted me.
"Of course an angel wouldn't have appeared to me today. Of course not. Right, Moma? An angel won't appear to me today."
It took me a while to figure out why he was saying that, but it finally hit me. He knows those angels wouldn't want to hurt his eyes by shining too brightly in them... he had an ophthalmologist appointment today, and the doctor dilated his eyes. :):):)
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
B#3 is 6!
As we headed out the door for school yesterday, I told him he could wear his pants legs over his boots if he didn't want to be working so hard tucking the pants into the boots. That was out of the question. "But I want to see the designs on my boots!"
He has been busy drawing pictures and writing in his journal. He let me know that he was starting a birthday club, and every one in the family was in his club. I looked at the page he was working on, and above his name it said he was "Club Dirctr." For months, he has been telling me that he wanted a house cake. He even drew me a picture with labels.
So, a house "with yellow paint and blue shingles" we had-- with six candles making the chimney... and green-tinted coconut for the lawn.
Here is a video of the birthday boy just after opening his present...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
It’s all in the details.
Yesterday afternoon I made the last-minute decision to haul all the kids to the grocery store for a quick trip to get non-perishable food items. For Bunco we were collecting for a Thanksgiving-donation to the food bank, and the classes at school are collecting for the local rescue mission.
We’re loading into the Monkey Bus. I’m deciding where to go… WinCo. WalMart. WinCo. WalMart. WinCo. I finally decided on WalMart.
We zipped into line. I purposely chose the lane we were in. It was smack-dab in front of the Family Fun Center… the mini-arcade for kids. That way, as I waited in line, I was able to send Blessings #s1-5 into game room where I could watch them while they played. (Hmmm… this reminds me of another time when B#3 climbed the wall and snuck into the childcare center at Fred Meyer. You can read about that here.)
I watched, counted heads, loaded canned food and ramen noodles and beans onto the conveyor belt, watched, counted heads. So as Miss Cashier Lady is scanning my food, B#2 comes out of the room and over towards me, followed by B#3… and B#1… and B#4… and B#5. Someone has just taken B#3’s coat, B#2 informs me. I ask a couple questions, send them back to the room, tell Miss CL, she calls for a Customer Service Manager, I pay for my food, I tell Miss CSM that someone has just stolen my son’s coat from the play room. Miss CSM gives me a look- the whaddayawantmetodoaboutit look.
So here’s the long story shortened but still long:
I describe in great detail B#3’s brand-new Spider-Man coat. Reversible. Fleece on one side. Navy. Spider-Man wording and pictures stitched on both sides. His name written along the waistband of one side.
I describe in great detail the details my sweet, sweet Blessings have told me. A man, or he could have been a teenager, B#2 tells me, came in and picked up the coat B#3 had set down behind the car. (Yes, they all saw him, but, no, they didn’t say anything. They’re kids, I keep reminding myself. Kids are hesitant to speak up.) The man took the coat, went back through the lanes and into the store. So Miss CSM gives all this great detailed information to the Crime Prevention Dudes in the back. Mr. CPD watches the video surveillance from the game room, gets a description of the man who snatched the coat, and sends out his undercover dudes to roam through the store in pursuit of the man with my son’s coat.
This whole process takes quite a while, as it takes time to relay messages, scan video footage, and find this man shopping in WalMart with all the other WalMart shoppers. All the while, I am reporting the theft of this winter coat to the police department just for the principle of it all. Sure it’s like “whoopti-doopti,” but that’s what I was told I needed to do.
So I describe in great detail to Miss Police Officer all about the Spider-Man coat, the when, the where, the how… all of it down to the minute. I describe the man’s clothes… well, as best I can. (B#1: I think he was wearing red. B#2: No, it was blue.) Because that’s what she asked for. Because that way the police department can review the videos.
Miss CSM walks over to me, but I have her wait as I am in a very important conversation with the law enforcement. “Is that your son?” she finally asks. I turn and look. He has climbed up on top of the basketball game to get down a stuck basketball he saw. He’s like ten feet up. I am seriously looking like that mother. Yeah, that one. The one with the out-of-control kids. Except for B#6 who is amazingly still asleep in the carrier after this extended shopping trip.
Miss CSM brings Mr. CPD over to tell me the news. They found the man on the video. They followed him from the store and into the parking lot. But of the kids’ coat in the basket, the Spider-Man jacket was not there. No, the jacket in his cart was really more of a sorta-purple coat, he says. “Well,” I sigh, “that wouldn’t be it. The Spider-Man is definitely not a purple coat. It’s red and navy.” This, of course, they already know, as I have described the Spider-Man coat in great detail several times.
We leave the store and walk out to the car. As we’re trudging across the parking lot, fighting the wind and rain, I hear B#4 ask which coat was taken. B#2 says, “It was the one Moma and Daddy got him.” “No,” I say. “We didn’t get him that one. It was the one Gamma just gave him for his birthday.”
“No it wasn’t.”
Huh? What? Well which one was it?
Turns out, it wasn’t the Spider-Man coat at all. Why no one bothered to tell me this when I was explaining it in such great detail to the WalMart people. And the POLICE.
No, it was the one we got him. The one with the navy and khaki and maroony-purpley.
So, we turn around and go back to the store. I have them track down Miss CSM for me so I can tell her that I’ve actually mistakenly described the wrong jacket. To which she informs me of the sad truth that, in fact, that was the coat they saw in the man’s cart.
Then I realize I must call the police officer and let her know that I’m a complete space cadet and have given the wrong information in this case they’ve opened on behalf of my son’s stolen coat. “Yes, I just talked to you about the stolen coat? Well, in fact, it was not the Spider-Man coat, but it was a hooded coat/winter vest combination thingamajigger… and it is not navy and red and reversible. It is khaki and navy and maroony-purpley.”
We re-leave the store and re-walk back to the car. I am on the verge of tears because I am so frustrated. I’ve spent an hour dealing with a stolen coat and would’ve had the stinkin’ thing back if I’d actually given them the right description.
But we turned it into a big learning opportunity.
-You never set down anything when you’re out, or someone might grab it.
So this morning, as we’re heading out the door to school, I run upstairs to bring down B#6. As I’m coming out of the bedroom, B#3 is coming up the stairs, excitedly shouting, “It wasn’t the one you gave me after all, Moma! Look, Moma! It’s still here! I wonder how that happened!”
Apparently, B#3 is in left field and can’t remember what he was wearing. In fact, I don’t think he was even wearing a coat yesterday afternoon. And I have filed a false police report.
Humiliation, I tell ya.
On the lighter, less-humiliating side:
-B#2 came downstairs this morning and asked for help with her jeans- she was having trouble getting her pockets tucked in. (Hmmm… I wonder why?) I first took a picture and then told her what her problem was!
I’m not sure which is worse: NuttButt or Booby.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
October 31, 2008
No-smudge color. Ha. That’s a lie. False marketing, I tell ya. Fortunately, I took a picture of my little pumpkin before his jack o’lantern face was off his face and onto his clothes, the walls, the couch, and the rug. But at least I had already sewn a face on the pumpkin shirt I made him.
Ever since he was temporarily dubbed as Mr. Frankenstaples, B#3 had decided he wanted to be Frankenstein’s monster for Halloween. I had sewn a black cape/shirt/cloak/suit/whatever-ya-call-it for him, but even on Friday, knowing I was going to paint his stitches-face, I hadn’t quite figured out how I was going to attach styrofoam bolts to his head.
After picking him up from kindergarten, we headed to the fabric/craft store to see what we could come up with. As I’m digging through the scraps of what Halloween stuff was left, B#3 pops out wearing a mask-- the lone kids’ one in the whole place-- and, goodness gracious, it was none other than the monster of Frankenstein.
And it was 60% off. Double score.
It was nice to find a silly little-boy mask. And it was especially silly when he wore it on top of the eyeball glasses Mr. Jim gave him. B#2:
She has wanted to be an Indian for months. So I made her a costume. It turned out pretty cute, I think. She was super excited about it and had danced around in it several times prior to Halloween. She even wore it to Awana for missions night... a.k.a. dress-like-people-from-other-countries night.
The first people who came to our door said, “Oh, how cute! It’s Sacajawea!” They left, she grunted and said, “I am not Sacajawea. I’m an Indian.”
The first door we went to, they answer the door and said, “Oh what cute costumes! And look! It’s Pocahontas!” We left, and she grunted. “I am not Pocahontas."
She decided to be a princess, as she has been for probably 7 of her 9 Halloweens. I made her a princess outfit-- exactly how I made the Indian costume (just without the tasseled ends) and added a princessy cape/shawl/whatever-ya-call-it (though it looks to be on crooked in the picture). She was happy with it... and I found her having a mirror conversation with her royal, princess self.
She wanted to be Ariel. Yay! I got to dig out the mermaid costumes I threw together a couple years ago. They were maybe a little beat up from closet storage but that was okay. Apparently she is smaller than the older girls were when I made the costumes for them because B#4’s little legs were stepping all over the fin. After a few houses, Ariel became a princess with human legs in red sweatpants.
And notice how her purple satiny clamshell bra was totally complemented by the Barney sweatshirt.
Even the dog dressed up. He wasn't a reindeer this year (as he has been every Halloween he's ever known), but instead wore a doggy shirt. In fact, he is still wearing the doggy shirt.
TRICK OR TREAT!