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Every year Hunter’s school does a Memorial Day concert outside, where they pay tribute to all of the kids’ family members that have served or are serving in the Armed Forces. Each grade sings a couple of songs–this year Hunter’s grade sang My Country Tis of Thee and You Are My Sunshine. Can you spot the ray of sunshine that belongs to Hunter?

Sunday I couldn’t resist matching up the boys, since I can. Unfortunately, while I can match their outfits, I can’t always match their facial expressions. Thus Caleb shows his serious side while everyone else acts like their usual silly selves. Notice the Crocs on the kids’ feet? We splurged and got each of the boys a pair this weekend–I think they’ll be worth every penny.

We had a little Memorial Day shindig in our backyard on Monday–after we cleaned out the toy room and mowed the lawn and installed our window A/C’s. The kids had fun swimming in the kiddie pool and slip-n-sliding and we did a couple of fireworks. I wasn’t up to cooking for a crowd so we did Bring-Your-Own-Picnic with a dessert to share, which turned out pretty great. Cliff made some fabulous mango bars and Chris shared her extra creamy honey ice cream, that totally kicked my honey ice cream’s butt. Nate-n-Devanie brought Krispy Kremes, the hit of the party and the Smiths brought popsicles to cool everyone off. I just love summer holidays and lounging around in the backyard in the shade, watching the kids run around in their swimsuits having fun together. It’s just perfect. John and his buddy, Bill, showed up just as the party was coming to a close, which was the cherry on top of the entire day for the boys.

Our A/C decided to quit working with the heat and the humidity so we spent a good part of the day yesterday outside in the shade and in the water. Of course that meant introducing Caleb to his first swimming pool. He was thrilled with the idea of swimming like the big boys and I actually got to sit and let my feet soak for a few minutes. That is until I noticed some brown goop oozing out of Caleb’s swim diaper and into the water I was soaking my feet in. That kind of put a damper on the whole luxury of it all and I suppose kept my feet planted firmly on solid ground. At least it felt good while it lasted.

That about sums up the weekend. We test drove a Suburban on Saturday. I don’t have a picture of that because I was too busy trying to fit five carseats and four kids in a space that wasn’t exactly made to hold five carseats and six kids and of course, it was really hot and humid and the kids were exceptionally grumpy. And we also saw Over the Hedge which was pretty funny except for the number of times Denver had to go to the bathroom. We didn’t get around to the chicken coop–maybe we’ll do that this weekend. Maybe not.

Growing up, my favorite kind of toast was “jam under cheese.” I love the taste of warm homemade strawberry jam mixing with gooey melted cheese, hidden under a crisped bubble of toasted cheese. The edges of the toast get crisp, but the bread under the cheese & jam is moist - almost like fresh bread. I later learned the combination of cheese and jam had been taught to us by my Dad, and Mom had actually never tried it, nor did she think that it sounded very appetizing. But she would make it for us on request, and she tolerated us making it all those years.

A few years back, a friend told me about the Monte Cristo sandwich from the Blue Bayou at Disneyland. I admit that my reaction was more like my mother’s to jam under cheese: “Ham? Turkey? Cheese? Deep fried? with JAM? AND powdered sugar?!?” I had thoughts of Elvis-like decadence complete with bowls of bacon to snack on like popcorn. I have been to both Disneyland and Disneyworld since then, but I still haven’t tasted Disney’s Monte Cristo.

I had never eaten at Bennigan’s until 4 years ago when I came to work in Connecticut, and I discovered the Monte Cristo for myself. I then introduced it to Shana when she and the kids came out. It became a regular favorite of ours - although not too often due to the potential for deleterious health effects from deep frying.

We took my parents to Bennigan’s about a year ago, and I made Dad order a Monte Cristo Sandwich. He protested the presence of processed American cheese on the sandwich, requesting instead real cheddar cheese. Due to the fact that they make the sandwiches and dip them a day in advance, they were unable to customize his sandwich (That was their claim, maybe they may just crack them out of the freezer when you order).

Dad - this is for you. You can customize this one with cheddar, pepper jack, gorgonzola, limberger, Amish special horseradish - whatever you fancy. Our preference is homemade raspberry jam with Swiss and American cheeses (although I may need to try gorgonzola sometime …) This is supposed to be the “real deal” Disney recipe, from a passholders’ newsletter.

Monte Cristo Sandwich
Batter
1 1/2 Cups - All-purpose flour, sifted
1/4 Teaspoon - Salt
1 Tablespoon - Baking powder
1 1/3 cups - Water
1 - Egg
Sandwich
1 Ounce - Sliced white meat of turkey
1 Ounce - Sliced Swiss cheese
1 Ounce - Sliced ham
2 Slices - Egg Bread

Sift flour, salt and baking powder together. Add water to beaten egg, then add to flour mixture and mix well. Set aside.

Make a sandwich using turkey first, then Swiss cheese, and then ham. Cut sandwich into quarters using toothpicks to hold sandwich together. Dip sandwich in batter and fry in 360 degrees canola oil until golden brown. Remove toothpicks and sprinkle with powdered sugar. Serve with raspberry jelly presented as a dipping sauce.

Sunday morning we all voted on pancakes for breakfast so Mark whipped up a batch of his famous pancakes and I fired up the griddle and tadah! We had a Pancake Hibachi. Mark poured the pancake batter onto the griddle and the kids added their own “special” ingredients–mostly chocolate, white and peanut butter chips with the occassional blueberry or banana here and there.

With Aaron’s baby birds and Catherine’s baby birds all flying away, I decided I’d better check on our own baby bird. I’ve noticed Mama bird hasn’t been attending to the nest quite as often as she used to and now I see why. There’s no room. Plus, it’s a bit messy up there, which I guess happens when you have kids, whether they are baby birds or monkeys, like ours–things just get. . . messy. Anyway, she’s probably also hoping her baby will make an attempt at flying away soon. Mostly it’s just amazing to me how quickly those baby birds grow from pink little slimey things to real, feathered little birds and then they just fly away, ready to start their own little lives. How do they learn everything they need to know about cats and digging up worms and building a nest and flying south just by sitting up there in their wee little nest for two weeks? And how in the world do their mommies just let them fly away like that, not knowing if they’ll figure it all out before they hit the pavement? Mother Nature really is amazing. As much work as it is, I’m glad I get at least eighteen years to raise my baby boys and make sure when they do hit the pavement, it’s a good experience. It’s sort of like being a penguin (see this post), I guess. It has it’s perks at times but humans definitely have it better. Definitely.

Last week while Grandma Stout was in town we decided to visit a local nature center. We managed to snag a day with perfect weather (I think it was the only day it hadn’t rained all week) and had all sorts of fun. While Grandma and I enjoyed looking at these adorable baby goats:

the boys were busy looking at this:

While Grandma and I discussed these:

the boys discussed this:

Getting the boys to look at any of the animals was like pulling teeth. Then, probably because there was no fence keeping them away, the boys had all sorts of fun watching these:

Denver chased the female turkey into some bushes, which sure upset the three males who immediately cornered Denver and let out some of the loudest gobbles I’ve ever heard.

Denver was also fascinated by the chickens, probably because he could stuff sticks and weeds in through the chicken wire, which piqued the chickens’ curiosity. Of course that freaked me out because none of the chickens looked too healthy and all I could think was, “Are bald patches a sign of Bird Flu?”

There was a great big sleeping pig that the boys tried really hard to wake up, including throwing rocks at his head, but to no avail. We also saw some cows and some horses and some sheep. Finally the boys were sick of the smelly animals so we hiked up the hill to the playground which was what the boys really wanted to do all along. There was lots to climb on and slide down and I must admit it was a pretty great playground.

And of course I found this swing that I think Mark needs to build for me sometime after he builds a chicken coop for “the girls.” It looks simple enough but sure was nice to sit in.

Anyway, we walked and played until our tummies were growling. Then, we picked Mark up for lunch and took Grandma to one of our favorite diners, Lucky’s, where we enjoyed some fabulous malts and onion rings and probably gained back every ounce we lost while we were hiking around the Nature Center. But it sure was fun.

If I hadn’t been knocked flat on my butt with this nasty cold, I would have posted this last week when it was still current. But I was knocked flat on my butt and am still struggling to feel even halfway normal again (anyone know what a sinus infection feels like), so a week late will have to do. Anyway…

I had a pretty nice Mother’s Day this year. Mark made me my all time favorite breakfast in bed, Yeasted Waffles, and the boys showered me with all kinds of fun gifts like a family size griddle (it will no longer take three hours to make Saturday breakfast), a skin for my Ipod Nano, an armband for my Ipod Nano, Nanny McPhee on DVD and a nice assortment of homemade cards and pictures. Hunter wrote me both a very nice letter, as well as a poem, which made me feel like the luckiest mommy ever. See for yourself:

My Mom
by Hunter Henrichsen

My Mom is like a flower whose smell is everlasting.
My Mom is so sweet like a birthday cake.
My Mom is so warm like a blanket.
I love my Mom.

Anyway, I just wanted to express my love to the five wonderful men in my life and tell them that there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here in this moment with them. Thanks for the great Mother’s Day!

Here’s our latest pic of the babies. They were snuggled in face to face and after we oohhed and aahhed over how cute and precious they looked they proceeded to knock each other in the face with all four fists flying. Their heartbeats were practically the same rate which I think confirms my theory that they are the same sex, boys–what else could they possibly be? I’ve gained a whopping three pounds which the Dr. says is amazing, that most women gain much more by now. I pointed out that most women don’t start out packing an extra 20 pounds that they never lost from the previous baby, which is only seven months old. If only the scale were that kind. Our “official” ultrasound is scheduled for June 16th and I still think we’ll be waiting until they are born to find out their sex(es). Sorry. My favorite thing about being pregnant right now is whenever the boys ask why I get two of whatever we’re eating (donuts, scoops of ice cream, twinkies, candybars, etc) I get to say, “How many babies are in my belly?” To which they always disgustedly reply, “Two.” Life is so unfair. My morning sickness is gone and I’m not quite as sleepy as I used to be, so things are looking up just in time for summer–hallelujah. Now if I could just kick this cold bug–I might actually be able to stay caught up with the laundry.

I’ve always said if you want a pet that’s hard to kill you should get a Beta, a.k.a. a Japanese Fighting Fish. I swear those fish can go weeks without food and live for months in a dirty, smelly fish bowl and they’ll never complain. They require no time or attention and offer free entertainment that the kids love–ever try putting a mirror next to a Beta’s fish tank? Anyway, that’s what I thought until we had Denver. About a month ago Denver must have decided that Elmo, that’s our fish, must be starved to death and feeling a bit chapped because he dumped about a month’s worth of fish food, as well as half a bottle of baby lotion into the fish’s bowl. We somehow managed to save the poor thing from that very unnatural disaster and thought we had explained very clearly to Denver that Elmo only needs a small pinch of food. But yesterday Denver was once again concerned with Elmo’s eating habits and determined he must be in desperate need of nourishment, because he dumped another pile of food into the tank. Hunter, upon discovering the very sunken and stiff fish along with a small mountain of food on the bottom of the fish bowl, concluded that Elmo must have thought it was breakfast, lunch and dinner time and over did himself in the eating department. And sure enough, the fish was dead. So now I’m afraid I’ve got to take back what I said about pets that are hard to kill and suggest that if you have a kid like Denver, maybe it’s best not to have a pet at all because they will undoubtedly find a way to kill it, even if it’s a hard kind of pet to knock off.

Yesterday, as I was walking home from dropping Hunter off at school, a lady asked me how my family was doing and if everyone was well. The question irritated me because I know, whenever someone asks that question, one of us always ends up getting sick. Anyway I smiled and said, “We’re all healthy thanks. But now that I’ve said that, someone will probably end up sick.” Sure enough, three of the four kids have come down with sore throats and poor Noah is especially miserable. Why is that?

Noah had kindergarten orientation today. Several weeks ago when we returned from Hunter’s parent/teacher conference I immediately began to praise Hunter for a good report from Mrs. H. Noah, who had been listening on, immediately burst into tears and ran up to his room, devastated. I hurried after Noah and asked him what the matter was. In the most heart-broken sobs, Noah cried, “I thought the meeting was for me.” For Noah. . . for Kindergarten. Ever since then Noah’s been anxiously but very patiently waiting for this day to come. And today he so happily left me to join his teacher–and didn’t even take a glance backwards at me. And I felt so happy for him and so sad all at the same time–that he’s grown up, that he’s moving up in the world–a world that involves a little less of me, that he’s confident and excited, that he’s mine.

Our Stake recently did a survey about people’s emergency preparedness. As a result my thoughts have once again been turned to our 72-hour kit and what still needs to be done. So this week I’ve been thinking about what food I can pack that first, will last a long time and second, the kids will actually eat. So today as I was doing the dishes, I started thinking about juice boxes and donut holes and spaghettios and boxed milk and I thought, “My kids like popcorn.” And I started thinking about how I could make popcorn in an emergency. And I thought of the Jiffy Pop we received with a dinner that was brought in when Caleb was born. We can’t use Jiffy Pop on our glass top range and so it’s been stuffed away in a cupboard for the past seven months. But I had this great idea for an experiment: can Jiffy Pop be popped on a sterno can? So we tried it today and guess what. Jiffy Pop can be popped on a sterno can. And it’s kind of a fun thing to do and would be a great distraction for little kids if you were in a tragic situation you didn’t want to be in. So now we’re gonna pack Jiffy Pop and M&M’s in our 72-hour kit. And now I’m wondering if we can pack a portable DVD player and a movie in there too–just in case.

We went to the bank today, just for a quick errand. The boys love to go because of course, they get free suckers. So Noah and Denver each picked out a sucker and one for Caleb and one for Hunter. After his bottle, we gave Caleb his sucker. Pretty much, he liked it.

I’ve been craving all kinds of foriegn stuff lately. Things like clotted cream and scones from England and cheese bread from Rodizio Grill, or rather, Brazil. Anyway, I found this great online store that sells British Food–British Delights–and they sell clotted cream. So I ordered some and today I made homemade biscuits (our equivalent to British scones) and for dinner we had them with clotted cream and jam. It really was fabulous and for those of you who are curious about a real English Tea, you should try some for yourself. Of course, I can’t tell you much about the tea, but at least I’ve covered the fattening, high calorie part.

And for one last random thought: How come when Denver puts a Pull-up on his head he looks so cute and when I put a Pull-up on my head I look so. . . stupid?

After noticing our birds fluttering around excitedly outside our front window I decided to take a peek. So far we only have one baby chirp but we’re crossing our fingers for the other four.