Monday, August 29, 2005
I remember when I was about 8 years old, my mother went on "strike." We ALL remember that day. It was a Sunday and only Aaron and Kathy were free of the consequences that come when your mother goes on strike. They were still babies. She wouldn't even take us to church. So, we stayed home and cleaned the house and frantically called all of our neighbors to see if any of them were willing to break the Sabbath and take us to the grocery store to buy her some Haagan Daaz. We were desperate. I think we even made a sign for the front door explaining that if the house was a mess it wasn't Mom's fault cause she was on strike.
Today I told my three boys that I was done being their mother for the day. Pretty much the same thing my mom did 22 years ago. I suppose in the 7 hours that they've been awake I've had my fill of being hit and kicked and spit at and told "no" and ignored and disobeyed. I finally caved in and let them have it. I love them desperately and I have the HARDEST time disciplining them--they are so darn cute. But their behavior is out of control and if these little boys are ever going to grow up to respect their wives, then I'm gonna have to buckle down sometime and give them a tiny dose of reality, even if they are only 3, 4 and 6. And as my sister Kathy pointed out, we never hit or spit at my mom--at least not that I can remember. And on the rare occasion that we shouted "I hate you" as we stomped up the stairs, we paid the ultimate price of the "spank stick" administered by Dad. Sure, we caused our share of trouble and there were many days we made my mother crazy, but we at least had enough respect for her that we never assaulted her in any way.
So. . . my three "adorable" little boys were marched right upstairs and tucked in their beds with a single book and told to stay there until I came to get them, which I said would be in "a very long time." And I explained that I would not be making them dinner or snacks tonight and that they would have to wipe their own poopie bottoms and get their own drinks as well. Sounds silly to an adult, I'm sure, but my boys about fell apart at the thought of no snacks and no dinner. I realize that ultimately, the problem lies with me and the way I've been disciplining them day in and day out and that perhaps I've been letting them get away with far too much. And as a result, I need to change my parenting techniques. But for today I quit! I haven't had a vacation, a pay raise, a bonus, a sick day, or even a pat on the back for all the mothering I've been doing. Today I'm taking the afternoon off and watching a stupid soap opera and eating some chocolate. Tomorrow I'll read the book about all the things I'm doing wrong.
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Sunday, August 28, 2005
Yesterday, I headed out to Kathy's house for some "belly pictures" with my sister Melanie. We're both due in the next couple of weeks and having Kak take pictures of our bellies has become a tradition. None of our scrapbooks are complete without a few shots of our very swollen bellies. Anyway, when I showed up at Kak's place I was greeted by several friends and family members and a great big surprise baby shower. It was probably the biggest surprise I've ever had and a very fun one! I don't have any pictures to share (since I had no idea I would need a camera) but if you visit Chris's Blog you can see pics of all the festivities. Thanks to everyone who came and for all the hard work that y'all put into the party and the fabulous gifts. And of course, thanks to Mark for taking the kids for the entire day while I got completely spoiled. It was wonderful!
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Saturday, August 27, 2005
Several months ago, the boys and I were having a discussion over breakfast. Hunter mentioned that he was going to baptize Ashlin and marry her in the temple. Then, Noah said he was going to marry Madison McCurdy. Denver, feeling a bit left out, said, "And I'm gonna marry Joey." Joey is one of Hunter's buddies from school. Noah immediately corrected Denver and said, "We don't marry boys, Denver. We marry girls." A little discouraged, Denver said, "But. . . I don't know any girls." I suggested Camrynn McCurdy (since we love the McCurdy's so much) and Denver seemed satisfied. A few minutes later, after much thought, Denver said, "Then I will take Camrynn to the beach and we will get buried." I'm not sure Denver has ever really figured out the difference between getting buried and married but. . . I'm not gonna worry about it too much, since no one is getting "buried" around here anytime soon.
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Tuesday, August 23, 2005
My kids are cranky. Okay. . . maybe it's their mother that's cranky. I'm not sleeping so good at night--my back is KILLING me, but only when I'm trying to sleep. It's really weird. Anyway, the lack of sleep puts my threshold for whining and fighting and screaming and hitting and kicking and spitting and temper tantrums at an all time low. Whether it's the kids or just me, tonight called for extreme measures--Caramel Chocolate Sauce on Breyers Vanilla Ice Cream. So much for getting up early to workout. Anyway, just thought I'd share the recipe for anyone else that might be feeling the "it's been a really long day" blues and might need a little pick-me-up. Go from "I've had it" to "mmmmm, that's better" in a matter of minutes with this recipe!
Caramel Chocolate Sauce
30 caramels
1 cup chocolate chips
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup butter
In a microwave safe bowl, combine all of the above ingredients. Microwave, uncovered, on high for 2 minutes. Stir. Heat 2-3 minutes longer or until the caramels are almost melted; stir until smooth. Serve warm over ice cream. Refrigerate leftovers.
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Sunday, August 21, 2005
The other day for lunch I had a spoon of peanut butter, an apple and some chocolate milk. Not the healthiest, I know, but it could've been worse. Anyway, when Denver caught on that I was eating peanut butter he immediately joined me at the table and asked for a spoonful. I gave him some and he gobbled it up. He asked for more and I nodded permission. He again devoured it and asked for more. "Yes Denver," I said, "but this is the last spoonful." Half disappointed, half excited he scooped out one more spoonful of peanut butter and then said, "But Mommy, I'm a peanut butter man." And that he definitely is.
I just carried the little peanut butter man up to bed. He fell asleep on the couch watching his daddy play nintendo. The end of a very busy weekend. As soon as I laid him down in bed he woke up and wanted me to lay down with him. I did and I told him he needed to lay his head back down. He protested, explaining that if he laid his head down his ears wouldn't get "coldy." Then he said, "If you are a little boy and you have coldy ears then you need a warm sippy." At that point I couldn't resist his logic and left to get him his warm milk in a sippy so he could enjoy his coldy ears and go back to sleep in little boy heaven.
What would we do without our little peanut butter man?
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Saturday, August 20, 2005
here we come!
Our first big tomato of the season! Hurray!
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Sunday, August 14, 2005
Mom gave me this recipe to try out. It was delicious! You might consider doubling this one--between me and Mark and the Sister Missionaries there just wasn't enough for all of us.
Blueberry Coffee Cake
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 (12-ounce) can buttermilk biscuits
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted
1 cup quick-cooking rolled oats
1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
1/2 cup sugar (I would reduce this to a 1/4 cup at least)
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Generously grease a 9-inch square baking dish. In a small bowl, combine brown sugar and cinnamon and mix well with a fork. Separate biscuit dough into 10 biscuits. Cut each biscuit into quarters, and dip each piece in melted butter and coat with brown sugar mixture. Arrange in a single layer in baking dish. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup of the oats. Combine blueberries and sugar in a bowl and toss to coat. Spoon over oats and biscuits and sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup oats. Drizzle remaining melted butter on top. Bake for 20 minutes or until cake is golden brown and center is done. Cool for 20 minutes. Serve warm.
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Saturday, August 13, 2005
to add to your summer reading list. Happy reading!
King Bidgood's in the Bathtub and Heckedy Peg by Audrey Wood. The stories and illustrations are fantastic. And. . .
Alphabet City by Stephen T. Johnson. All three of the boys had fun trying to find the hidden alphabet. Very cool.
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Friday, August 12, 2005
 Denver's surgery went well--no complications. He was in and out in less than 15 minutes and he recovered pretty quickly--just a bit dizzy and cranky afterwards. Kak took the big boys and picked up McDonald's breakfast for all of us. We stopped by Blockbuster on our way home and finally got us a membership and picked up a copy of "Jumanji" since the library seems to have lost theirs. We read "Jumanji" this afternoon and we all had naps, since we were up so early this morning and everyone was a bit tired. Then, we went to Friendly's for dinner--a new thing we do whenever Mark is out of town. You know, since he gets to eat out, we do too. Anyway after dinner we stopped by Toys R Us for a few things and then returned home to watch "Jumanji." It was a perfect night for the movie because it was stormy out and distracted the kids from the lightning and thunder--it was hard to differentiate between the thunder in the movie and the real thing. We brought down all of our pillows and blankets and popped some popcorn and had a great night snuggled in together. Now the kids are all in bed hoping the storm clouds blow over so we can go watch for shooting stars when Daddy comes home.
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Thursday, August 11, 2005
 We had a really nice day today. We got up early and went to see the free movie, "Robots." The boys sat still through the entire show and we all enjoyed it. I liked it. . . I think just because Hunter wants to be an inventor so bad and I loved the theme of the movie which was basically, you may not be able to give your kids all the material things they want but what you can offer is a lot of love and a strong foundation and that's what matters most. Afterwards we went home to have some lunch and wash some dishes. Kak and Me-Me showed up a little while later, to show off Kak's new puppy. Denver asked when we were gonna get us one and even I found myself thinking he was pretty cute. . . for a dog. We ate lunch together and I whipped up a batch of cookies and then we headed over to our friends house for some swimming and dinner. We all swam and cooled off and then had a great dinner with the McCurdy's. They are great friends and it was nice to have an evening out, chatting and playing. We hit Walmart on the way home for some milk and Marshmallow Maties and then headed home for bed. Too bad every day can't be so great.
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Wednesday, August 10, 2005
I'm sorry if this is a repeat, but it's important. Several weeks (or months) ago, as I was walking into Walmart with the boys, one of them tripped and got hurt. I managed to get the kids all in a cart and was trying desperately to calm the screaming child down--I think it was Denver. Anyway, a lady from the store next door had just entered Walmart as well and was off to get her lunch. She stopped to ask what was wrong with Denver, which only made him scream more. I was starting to get annoyed with her when she asked if he could have a cookie and I said, "Sure." So, she led us over to the little Subway inside and ordered her lunch and asked what kind of cookies the kids wanted. Not just Denver, all three. So, they gave her their order, she ordered them, paid for her lunch and walked away. After she was gone the Subway girl handed me a bag of six cookies and said, "You're all set." Now, that lady didn't have to buy anyone a cookie. She was nice to buy Denver a cookie. She was especially nice to buy all three boys a cookie. But she bought them each two cookies--I was touched. It didn't take a whole lot of extra effort on her part but it made a huge difference on my end of things. Not only did it stop the crying but the cookies lasted our entire trip to Walmart and kept the kids from being completely miserable while I picked up diapers and deoderant.
Now, today we were at Goodwill looking for beanbag chairs for our new and improved playroom. Mark saw some on Saturday and we decided it was just the thing for the kids to sit on while they watch tv down in the basement. Unfortunately, somebody got to them first and the beanbag chairs were gone. We wandered around the store for a few minutes, looking at this and that, until I announced to the boys that it was time to go. They had each picked a couple of belts (really ugly, old fashioned ones) that they wanted for dress up purposes. I agreed and we headed for checkout. This caused Denver (who must have been having the time of his life playing in the clothing racks) to go into hysterics. My hands were full and carrying Denver with my huge belly isn't much of an option anymore. I knelt down and offered him a granola bar and tried bribing him with picking a treat at the store, but to no avail. Then a man wandered in and started staring at Denver and trying to tell him how beautiful he is and blah, blah, blah. That just made Denver scream more. Then the man said to me, "Don't you have any candy for him?" I said, "He doesn't want any of that." To which the man replied, "Well, hold him then and kiss him. He wants you to hold him and kiss him." Right. Anyone that has a kid throwing a tantrum knows you can't exactly hold them. And anyone with any brains at all knows you can't hold a tantruming kid when your arms are full and you are eight months pregnant. Anyway, I finally picked him up and started rocking him a bit and he started calming down when the man said, "Kiss him. He just wants to be kissed." To which I replied, "I've got it! Thanks!" As soon as the man left, Denver recovered and asked to get down and play.
Now you tell me. . . in what way was that man helping? I was content to let Denver scream it out. We were next in line, he wasn't hurting himself or anyone--it wasn't going to kill anyone to listen to Denver cry for a few minutes. Instead that guy was making him scream more and aggravating me. I just don't understand why people, when they know they are making a kid upset, they don't just go on with their own business. It's terribly frustrating. We need more cookie ladies around here and fewer know-it-alls! That would be really nice.
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Tuesday, August 09, 2005
The last few weeks have been so-so. I hate to complain--first cause I feel like I'm being ungrateful and I really have a lot to be grateful for and things could be a lot worse. And that's the second reason--usually when I start complaining, things only get worse. But sometimes you just gotta get it all off your chest. I'll try to make it brief. We went to the doctor four times last week. This week we've already been three times. I hate the doctor's office at this point and our budget is getting just a bit strained. Thankfully the ENT gave us the go-ahead on putting tubes in Denver's ears, which will be done Friday (doctor visit number four and the grand finale!) Originally, they said I'd have to be there at 8:30am. Today they called and said I'd have to be there at 6:45am. That would be fine if Mark would be around to watch the two older kids. Instead I have to get them all up at the crack of dawn and loaded in the car myself and then, wait for Kak to get off her graveyard shift and come pick them up at the hospital. Poor Kak--last thing she needs is to babysit when she's dead tired. Fortunately, she'll have a new puppy and "The Crystal Maze" to keep them entertained and maybe she can even have a catnap.
And then, my Wilbur. My poor poor Wilbur. Today when we left the house to take Mark to the train we discovered Lucky out of the coop, wandering around, sqwaking especially loud. We were all a little puzzled and when Mark went to check it out, he discovered a bunch of Wilbur's feathers and that their nesting tray had been pulled out and dumped on the ground. In a rush, we didn't have time to investigate any further. Because Lucky was okay, I was still hopeful that Wilbur was fine too, just off in a bush somewhere--which she does frequently. Anyway, when we got home I took the boys out to the coop and we started to investiage. Sure enough, a lot of Wilbur's feathers had been plucked and it was obvious she had been attacked by something. We looked and looked and looked for her but with no success. So, we fed Lucky and put her back in the coop and headed inside for breakfast. As we were walking inside I saw Wilbur, laying in some bushes, her head completely bare of feathers and bright red with blood. I sent the kids inside (to spare them the blood and guts) and ran back to save my girl. No saving could be done. Whatever got her had pretty much gnawed off her beak and she had a major gash in her head and at least 2 of her 6 claws were gone. I placed her in a box with some wood shavings and placed a screen over the box to prevent the flies from getting at her--but it was hopeless. She couldn't drink or eat and the bugs were extremely anxious to get at her and she didn't seem to mind them climbing in and out wherever they pleased. Mark had to finish her off when he got home from work and now, we're down to one chicken.
And of course, Mark's got a business trip and I hate it when he has business trips because I can't sleep and I get so freaked out. I mean, I really get freaked out. I sleep with a butcher knife and Mark's heavy duty flashlight and my cell phone under my pillow and I toss and turn all night long. And it's absolutely miserable. And the summer is rapidly coming to a close and I just haven't got the energy to play and party with the boys anymore and yet there's so much I want to do with them. It's pathetic. It's hot and humid and dry this summer--our grass is burning. My house is a mess but I can't muster the energy to clean it all. I'm turning thirty and it's making me feel old and ugly. And I'm terribly stressed about money and babies and all the things I shouldn't be stressing about. I guess when it rains, it pours around here. Thankfully, I lived in Colorado for long enough to know that if you wait around a few minutes, the storm eventually blows over and the sun shines brighter than ever, sometimes so bright it's blinding. I suppose I'll give the storm a few more minutes to pass.
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Monday, August 08, 2005
If you are a Stout, you probably have a weakness for peanut butter and french toast (or pancakes) with syrup. In our house we eat peanut butter on Eggo waffles, on pancakes, on french toast, with jam and jelly, and sometimes straight off the spoon. If Denver had his way, he'd eat the entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting, easy. Anyway, this morning I came across a recipe for Peanut Butter Pancakes in this month's issue of Family Fun Magazine. If you get that magazine then you already have it. If not, I'm gonna share it with you because it was pretty darn tasty. We ate ours with bananas and syrup (no extra peanut butter necessary) and we froze the leftovers for another day. Next time we make 'em, we'll add chocolate chips for our Reeses lovers, which we have quite a few of around here. Hope you find them as tasty as we did!
1 cup flour
2-1/2 tsps. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
2 Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 large egg
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. milk
Combine dry ingredients; set aside. In a small bowl whisk together the peanut butter, sugar and oil until smooth. Beat in the egg, then the milk. Pour the milk mixture into the flour mixture, stirring just until blended. Drop the batter by 1/4 cup onto a greased, hot griddle. Flip when bubbles appear on the top. Serve topped with bananas and chopped peanuts and syrup. Makes twelve 4-inch pancakes.
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Sunday, August 07, 2005
Friday, after we dropped Mark off at the train, as we were walking up to the house, Hunter noticed that we had three very red cherry tomatoes on our vines. He was so excited he called over his brothers and all three of them squatted down by the vines and squealed and shouted over the discovery. Today, we let Noah pick some and they tasted. . . well, a little strong but hey, at least we have tomatoes! Another week or so and we'll have more than we know what to do with. Anyone have an easy, but good salsa recipe to share?
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Saturday, August 06, 2005
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Friday, August 05, 2005
Last Friday we went to the doctor for Denver's ears. Monday we went to the doctor for Noah's ears. Wednesday we went back to the doctor for Denver's ears. Today we went back to the doctor for Denver's ears. Let's just say, they're having a little bit of a hard time clearing up Denver's ear infection(s) and our next stop is the Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. Anyway, I think Denver is getting a little upset about all this ear stuff and today he asked me why bugs keep getting in his ears. (I've explained on several occasions that little tiny bugs get inside our bodies and make us sick--it's easier than explaining bacteria and viruses at this point.) I told him that they are just looking for a place to live and he asked if they think his ears are a house. And I said, "Yeah, they think your ears are houses." And he said, "But Mommy, my ears are not a house." Poor Denver. . . here's hoping the ENT Specialist has got some tricks up his sleeve for getting rid of those bugs.
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Thursday, August 04, 2005
Just spending a few minutes with the boys, answering all their questions about cars and how they work.
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Noah has been dying to have a playdate with his buddy ever since Hunter had a playdate with his friend last week. So. . . I FINALLY pulled through and got the little man his playdate. Today we went to see "Because of Winn Dixie" at the theatre (for free--hurray!) with our friends and then took Jarrett home to play with Noah. Of course, Noah had meltdown and Hunter and Noah fought over Jarrett the entire time, but by the end I think a fun time was had by all and Noah no longer felt ripped off because he "never gets to have a friend over."
 
P.S. Winn Dixie is a great movie and definitely worth renting. It's released on DVD this Tuesday and has a great message in it.
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Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Denver woke up this morning at 5:00am complaining that he had an "ouchy ear." Of course, I know this means that the antibiotic he's on isn't working and that we are going to the doctor for the third time in the past five days. I took Denver on Friday, Noah on Monday and Denver again today. Poor Hunter has been a real trooper considering he has to tag along even though he's not sick and gets nothing out of it. Anyway, the thought of dragging my three boys to the doctor's office again was almost more than I could bear. Then, out of desperation (we were out of milk, bread and eggs) we had to go to the grocery store. I HATE going to the grocery store alone. It's even worse taking the three kids with. By the time we got home I just wanted to sit down and cry. I was exhausted. Somehow I managed to get the groceries inside and the frozen stuff put away, the boys some lunch and a movie, and myself some lunch. I fell asleep within minutes of finishing my food and was awakened a few minutes later to help Noah open his fruit tape. That just made me want to cry even more. No rest for the weary, I guess. We had spaghetti for dinner and then I took the boys for a long walk in the 90 degree weather to see our algae infested pond and throw some rocks. Mark met us halfway home in the car and we climbed aboard happily. Popsicles, scriptures and bed. "Lost" is on tonight but I have a feeling I'm not going to make it. There is so much I still want to do this summer but this week being pregnant has finally caught up with me and I'm feeling a little unenergetic. I think that's the hardest thing right now--wanting to do more but not having the energy to do it all and then feeling guilty for not doing more. Why can't sitting in front of the TV and the Air conditioner all day long be okay? All this going to the beach and swimming and the library and the museums and movies and filling up the swimming pool and dumping the swimming pool and hooking up the sprinklers and unhooking the sprinklers and having friends over for playdates is making me tired. I'm so tired.
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Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Have you ever heard of a Plumcot? It is a cross between an apricot and a plum. A Pluot is also a cross between an apricot and a plum, only this time it is 75% plum and 25% apricot. And. . . an Aprium is another apricot/plum hybrid but it is 75% apricot and 25% plum.
Why do I bother telling you all of this? Because, a few weeks ago Mark discovered pluots at our local grocery store and we immediately fell in love with them. They taste just like plums but without the tartness. They are very sweet and very juicy. We haven't seen any Apriums or Plumcots but we'll let you know if we come across any. Until then you should definitely try a pluot. You won't be disappointed.
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