Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Bruschetta Chicken
1/2 cup flour
2 eggs, lightly beaten
4 boneless, skinless chhicken breast halves
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/4 cup dry bread crumbs
1 Tbsp. butter or margarine
Place flour and eggs in separate shallow bowls. Salt and pepper the flour. Combine the parmesan, bread crumbs and butter in another shallow bowl. Dip chicken breasts in flour, then eggs, then bread crumb mixture. Place in a greased 9x13 pan and cover lightly with foil. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes. Uncover and bake an additional 5-10 minutes until top is browned. While chicken is baking make Bruschetta. When tops of chicken breasts are browned, spoon bruschetta over the chicken and heat just until heated through, about 3-5 minutes. Serve with angel hair pasta and salad.
Bruschetta
3 cloves garlic, minced
4 large plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
1/2 small red onion, diced
6 leaves fresh Basil, rolled and sliced
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Combine first four ingredients. Add olive oil, salt and pepper to taste. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Tomato and Cucumber Salad
2 large cucumbers, peeled and diced
2 large tomatoes, diced
1 medium green pepper, diced
1 medium onion, diced
1-8 ounce bottle fat-free Italian salad dressing
2 tsp. sugar or sugar substitute
Combine all of the above and refrigerate for at least one hour. Serve with a slotted spoon.
And for dessert check out Cook-A-Doodle Doo by Janet Stevens from your local library and after you read it make the strawberry shortcake recipe with your kids. The cake isn't so great on its own but it's superb with the strawberries and cream. We snarfed it down for FHE treat only we didn't have any whipping cream, just light cream and light cream doesn't whip. So I cut the cake into cubes and we poured strawberries and cream on top and it was fantastic. Happy eating!
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Monday, February 27, 2006
When I was little my dad used to bet me $5.00 if I could be quiet for longer than three minutes. I never could. Looks like the same is true for me and my blog. I love my blog and the past three days have been torturous without it. I have received so many emails and phone calls from y'all, telling me how much you'll miss my blogs and encouraging me to keep blogging--how could I possibly resist you? I hate being attacked and I hate offending people but not as much as I hate not blogging. So hate me if you will but you can't shut me up that easily! I have way too much to say!
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Saturday, February 25, 2006
Yesterday I was informed that some of the things that I say and do and blog have been offending several members of my family. Anyone that knows me knows that is never my intention. As a result I've been doing some thinking. First off, my blog is my journal. I write here for several reasons. When I'm having a bad day, it helps to vent. When I find a good recipe or book or activity, it's nice to have a record of it for later reference. And of course, it's a great way to keep a family history. The only drawback is, knowing that other people might be reading it, I've found myself holding back feelings and opinions for fear of offending people, most especially my family. And while I enjoy hearing your comments and having you for my audience, I also want a record of my feelings and my thoughts and I don't feel like I can do that here. Sure I could have two blogs, or a blog and a journal, but I'm already spending too much time in front of the computer--I can't justify more.
Next, my sister wrote this: "we need to think before we blog, and think twice before we comment. If you are going to post something inflammatory, be sure you're willing to take the heat afterwards." I'm not convinced that I've written anything inflammatory but apparently I have written lots of offensive things. And since this is my journal, so-to-speak, I don't want to have to think before I write anything. And if I had any self-esteem at all, I think I'd be able to deal with the heat and the personal attacks that might come with my writing. But since I'm lacking in the self-esteem department, the last thing I need is to be attacked for thinking or feeling a certain way.
So, at least for now, I'm signing off. And for all those who I have offended, please know that it was never my intention and I'm terribly sorry.
posted by Shana # 9:37 AM
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Friday, February 24, 2006
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Thursday, February 23, 2006
Hunter and I saw a commercial last night that we both found hilarious. We were telling Noah and Denver about it and I found it online so they could see it too. You can view it by clicking here and clicking on the "Pointer" commercial. I'm not sure why I like it, I just do.
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Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Yesterday we were at the library. I was wandering up and down the bookshelves, as usual, trying to find the good books that were mixed in with all the so-so books. The boys were busy playing in the corner with the toys and Caleb was happily drooling all over my arm. A bag full of books later, I meandered over to the boys and found Denver sitting on the couch next to another little boy about the same age whose mother was reading him a book. She was probably the cutest mom I've seen in awhile and she had a way of adding to the story little details that made me want to snuggle in and listen too. Anyway, when she had finished reading the story she and her son headed for home and I sat down to nurse Caleb. I told Denver to go get me some books to read to him and he returned a few minutes later with this book. The book shows you the tail end of an animal on one page and then on the next page it shows the whole animal. So, we came to the giraffe's tail and I asked Denver what animal has a tail that would be way up high. And he said he didn't know. So then I gave him another hint: what animal has a really long neck way up to the sky? And Denver thought and thought and for awhile I was thinking maybe I'd lost his interest and he had started day-dreaming or something. Then, all of the sudden he looked up at me and said, very matter-of-factly, "A llama!"
During Senior Primary this past week June Rodgerson and her class did sharing time. June is the mother of six boys and I love her for that very fact alone. Anyway, she did this really great sharing time about how when we sin we lose some of our freedom. She then tied Brandon (one of the more rambuncious kids in the ward) up in some rope, making sure his arms were snuggly at his sides. Then she had the kids list off some of the things that we do that are bad. The kids immediately listed off the normal things: stealing, lying, saying bad words, etc. For every sin, Brandon got more rope tied around him until at the end he could no longer move. June then taught the kids that Jesus Christ promised us that if we would repent He would untie the ropes that bind us and set us free. A wonderful object lesson and to top it off, she handed out licorice ropes to all the kids. So Monday, on our way to Duckpin Bowling with Chris and Ben, I discovered the licorice in my diaper bag that I had saved for Mark. The kids immediately started begging for some so we decided they could have some after we told them about June's sharing time (they're all in Junior Primary.) So we started telling the kids about the lesson and asked them if they could think of some bad things that might tie us up, so to speak. And Hunter immediately perked up and said, "I know a really really bad sin--throwing rocks at construction workers when they are building a house and also breaking the windows." Maybe he's thought about doing it, I don't know, but at least his answer was original.
And just now, while Hunter, Kak-Kak and I were watching American Idol, a commercial came on for a 99 cent crispy chicken sandwhich at Wendy's. Hunter pointed out the sandwhich and the price and I said, "Well. . . really it costs a dollar and six cents." And Hunter asked why so I said, "Plus tax." And then Hunter chimed in, "Plus shipping and handling?"
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Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Dear Hunter*
You turned seven just over a month ago. This past weekend you brought home your first Hardy Boys book from the school library and you started reading it all by yourself. I never dreamed this day would come, that you would actually read a book all by yourself, but now that you are seven I guess you've decided you don't need me anymore. And for some strange reason it seems like you grew up overnight and I hardly recognize this young man in front of me. And I never knew that you bringing home a book would make me feel this way but a big part of me wishes you were little all over again so I could snuggle you in my arms and read you "Goodnight Moon" one more time.
You are still my biggest challenge. Perhaps you always will be. You struggle to listen and obey and there are times when you resemble a two-year old more than a seven year old. You still make those funny noises that you made when you were little and scream out at random times, maybe for attention, sometimes when you don't like what we have to say. You throw tantrums when you don't get your way and when you are mad, you sure have a lot of angry things to say behind the closed door of your bedroom. You've just begun telling lies and there are times it's so obvious that you are fibbing (like taking a bite out of a cookie while at the same time telling me you didn't steal one) I wonder what you must be thinking.
But somehow amongst all the challenges you seem to dish out, there is an undeniable sweetness that is hard to come by nowadays. Just the other day, as I was begging Noah to share one of his Valentine's chocolates you told Noah to keep his chocolate and then handed me your entire box of candy and told me I could have all of them. No one asked you to do it--you just did. When you heard your best friend from Kindergarten felt like he didn't have any friends at school you immediately picked up the phone to call him and make sure he knows he's got a friend in you. You bring me home love letters almost daily and every morning you climb in bed with me and wrap yourself completely around me. I feel there is so much to learn from you--you have an amazing strength about you and an even greater faith.
You have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, just like your father. While most first graders are bringing home picture books from the school library you are bringing home encyclopedias about how things work and space exploration. You want to be a mechanical engineer when you grow up because you want to invent things and build things. You are so smart--you even started answering your math worksheet in roman numerals, much to your teacher's dismay. And knowing that she might need help grading your answers, you made a key for her on the back. Unfortunately the teachers don't acknowledge your abilities and worry more about conforming so you seem bored at school. But whenever I offer to home school you, you protest, saying you'd miss your friends and all the fun things you get to do at school.
You love your school buddies and I can never schedule you enough play dates. You are still committed to Ashlin, despite the emotional roller coaster she sends you on, but you are also learning there are other fish in the sea and have started asking other girls to marry you. You take their rejections well and seem pleased that Sophia has accepted your proposal.
You love lego and k'nex and can build the most amazing things. This year you were finally old enough to attend the Lego Engineering club after school. After just one class you were begging for the kit for Christmas. After the third class the teacher pulled me aside to tell me you were able to do things with the lego that even the third graders couldn't grasp and that you were positively amazing. You also love computer games (Roller Coaster Tycoon) and transformers and TV. Despite your couch potato tendancies, it is only when you are home from school that your brothers leave the couch and play down in the toy room--you have such a fabulous imagination and come up with such fun games, they can't resist you. You ride a two-wheeler like a pro now and although your swimming skills need some improvement, you are a certified fish and jumped into the deep end of the swimming pool, alone, just last week.
You wrote a list this past Thanksgiving of all the things you are thankful for. You didn't miss a thing. I think when I was in first grade I would have listed off all of my favorite toys, a few of my friends and maybe my family. I don't think I was half as thoughtful as you. But, if I were to write a list of all the things I'm thankful for today, you would be one of the first things I would write down--you with all of your challenges and all of your sweetness. And Hunter, I will always be thankful that we had you and I will always love you.
*Yes. . . I am a copycat, if you haven't already noticed. But I'd be stupid if I saw a good idea and didn't copy cat it. Plus lately, I can blog one-fingered and nursing but I can't scrapbook one-fingered and nursing. So in an attempt to record my children's lives before they've all grown up and gone their ways, I am being a copycat.
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Sunday, February 19, 2006
Denver loves Caleb and then some. He'll go to extreme measures to get Caleb to smile and talk to him, as illustrated. He hasn't quite grasped the concept of "be gentle" and "be careful" but at least if he hurts Caleb it will be out of pure love. And I'll take that over jealousy any day.
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Saturday, February 18, 2006
This morning over breakfast we somehow got on the subject of fiber. For those of you who don't know my boys, let's just say they can get a little backed up. As a result they know a lot about fiber and what it does for you. We often sit around the breakfast table comparing fiber content in the different cereals and trying to decide which one would help us poop fastest. Anyway, I mentioned that Kellogg's makes an all-bran cereal that is filled with apricot and that it is oh so delicious. Unfortunately, you can only get it in Canada and England. I told them this because my parents were just in England and they bought me a generic version of the stuff and I can't wait to get my hands on it. It's soooo good and it has tons of fiber in it and that kind of double whammy is hard to come by. Anyway, Noah, out of the blue, said: "Is it so good it tosses its cookies?" I immediately burst out laughing because first of all. . . I've never heard that phrase before. And second of all. . . he's using it in the wrong context. He got it from a volcano video we rent from the library where these aliens land on a volcano and when it erupts they say it 'tosses its cookies.' Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm blogging this except that it was ridiculously funny and somehow the whole thing is so totally Noah I don't ever want to forget it. And from now on when you hear one of us Henrichsens say something about tossing our cookies it probably doesn't mean we're about to hurl, but rather, that we think something is totally groovy.
On a completely different note, while Chris and Meg were over for Meg's music lessons, I asked Chris if she had anything yummy for dinner lately. Grocery shopping is sort of a drag, but nothing is worse than trying to come up with a meal plan. I need all the help I can get in this department and I had put off the task for as long as I possibly could. Anyway, she proceeded to list off all these scrumptious things she and her family had enjoyed over the past week or two. One of the meals she mentioned sounded so good I immediately added it to my shopping list and we had it for dinner. Here's what ya do: spread some guacamole in a tortilla, top it with bacon, some grilled chicken (we added that bit), some sprouts, a little pico de gallo (Mark made his own) and roll it up. It is totally healthy, really filling and super tasty. There, you're one meal closer to having your meal plan done.
And last but not least, we read a great book from the library just before bed. It's a little twist on the nursery rhyme "Hey Diddle Diddle" and I thought it was absolutely clever. I don't know about you but when I go to the library and stand face to face with all those book shelves, half the time I don't even know where to start. There are a lot of children's books out there but that doesn't mean they are all good and finding the books worth reading is sometimes like looking for a needle in a haystack. So, that is why, when I come across a good book, I just have to share it. Anyway, And the Dish Ran Away With the Spoon by Janet Stevens is one of those books you should look for in the library. Hunter started out grumbling about how many times he's heard the nursery rhyme and by the end he was totally hooked.
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Friday, February 17, 2006
Yesterday Caleb decided to sleep from 3:30pm until 9:00pm. Then he decided to be awake from 9:00pm until 11:00pm. Now normally he goes to sleep at 9:30pm and I crash on the couch almost immediately thereafter. So last night, in a struggle to stay awake, I started flipping through the 800 some-odd channels we have on TV. I was hoping to watch some CMT but there was nothing on. So I headed down from channel 187. . . 186, 185, 184. . . and so on until I came across "The Man Show." Now I don't know much about this show but it has Adam Carolla on it and Mark and I think he's pretty funny. Anyway, I stopped to watch for a minute and of course, it was about penises. And I won't go into detail for you faint of heart, but they had a man on the show who lifted weights with his penis and they showed an Indian man lifting a small boulder with his penis. And all of this penis weight lifting reminded me of a "Religions Around the World" class I took at BYU and a film they showed us about how some religions believe self-torture is a way of self purification or something like that. And what would you know, some men lift rocks with their penises as a weird way of purifying themselves. Only the only difference is, on "The Man Show" they had a little black fuzzy spot covering the man's goods but at BYU they showed everything, penis and all.
Now normally I would have flipped to the next channel (which I did) and forget all about the penis trauma (which I didn't.) That was just enough penis talk to send me over the testosterone edge. See, early in the night the boys were all playing nintendo, Mark included, and cheering for each other and high fiving each other and slapping each other on the back and I felt like I was intruding on some Bachelor's Party, minus the stripper. And try as I may to get into computer games and Star Wars and Science Fiction and aliens and sports. . . I just can't do it. And I sat there in the middle of the family room thinking, "I am so totally the only girl here." And I've felt it every now and then, a little outnumbered, but last night I really felt it. And I started feeling claustrophobic in a weird kind of way, like I needed to french braid someone's hair or play with barbies quick, or else I was all of the sudden going to sprout my own penis. And the scary thing about that is that lately the boys have been trying really hard to convince me that I am a boy and that I already have a penis. And Denver is so convinced that I have a penis that he has started getting mad at me for not showing it to him. And I'm starting to feel afraid, like I'm about to be assimilated and while I like men and I'm glad they are around, I don't really want to be one.
And guys always complain about pink and frilly things and hormones and tampons and they get so fed up with it all. But their testosterone can be just as overwhelming. And sitting in this house full of boys I'm thinking the boy power is beginning to be a bit overpowering and I'm feeling the urge to paint something pink.
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Thursday, February 16, 2006
Yesterday at karate, my friend Enid was given a slip of paper reminding her of Sarah's upcoming test date and that she needed to practice forms six and seven. I chuckled at Enid who had no idea what form six and seven was and suggested she ask Sarah to see if she knew. I didn't know and I was pretty certain Noah didn't know either. So we asked Sarah and she didn't know. Enid and I shrugged our shoulders and wondered how in the world they were supposed to practice a form that none of us knew. I've seen them practice forms in karate once or twice, but not enough that I would remember them or expect Noah to remember them. As we all stood around scratching our foreheads, Noah matter-of-factly stated that he knew what forms six and seven were. "Okay," I said. "Show me form six." Without any hesitation Noah kicked his leg, crossed it over his other leg, and stepped out while at the same time said, "Kick, cross and cover." A little surprised and baffled I said, "Okay Noah. What's form seven?" Noah then ducked to the side, did a side kick, crossed over his leg and stepped out while he said, "Duck, side kick, cross and cover." Absoslutely astonished and bursting at the seams with pride I said, "Wow Noah, good job!" Still a little skeptical I withheld writing this blog until I knew for sure he had them right. So today I asked Oscar myself and sure enough, Noah had them nailed! My little Noah who sits in front of the TV all day long playing nintendo games and watching Dora and Diego, who protests when I try to teach him how to add or write the letter N the right way--I was blown away by this display of intelligence. I've never thought he was mentally challenged. Anyone that has ever watched Noah play nintendo or talk about volcanoes knows he's not stupid. But, have I underestimated this little whipper-snapper? Yes. Yes I have. And now I wonder what else he's got up his sleeve; what other hidden talents and skills he's got that I've neglected to acknowledge and encourage, praise and adore.
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Wednesday, February 15, 2006
When it snows we love to have this dessert, sent directly from heaven above: a scoop of snow, some sliced bananas and some sweetened condensed milk. Don't have snow? My sister, Kathy makes it with some shaved ice and it's just as yummy, especially in the summer when it's hot.
And look at this little angel. . . this is what I wake up to almost every morning. Not a bad start to the day if you ask me.
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I think it's too bad that Valentine's Day wasn't on Monday. Monday was a good day. Well. . . to a point. Mark was sick. Sunday we had a conversation about barf. Probably because two years ago on Valentine's Day we were in the hospital with Denver because he had dehydrated himself from barfing so much and the doctors kept telling me stupid things like "give him a teaspoon of gatorade every 15 minutes until he keeps it in for an hour and then give him a tablespoon of gatorade every 15 minutes till he holds that down for an hour" and "barfing every fifteen minutes for an entire 24 hour period is normal for a 1 1/2 year old and he won't get dehydrated."
I really hate doctors. They think that by spending 2.6 minutes with our children looking up their noses and down their throats they know everything there is to know about our children. And I think all of them have this underlying belief that mothers are stupid people who couldn't get a job doing anything else except sitting at home with little kids, changing poopie diapers and wiping away green boogers. And yet, I would say at least 75% of the time I am the one that correctly diagnoses my kids and all I ever get from the doctor is "you'd better hurry on over to the hospital so they can fix your kid before they die cause that would look bad on our record" kind of attitude. But that's another story for another day. What I was saying is that on Sunday Mark and I were talking about barf (since that's the level I'm on nowadays--forget all that chemistry and math I thrived on in college) and I said to Mark something like, "You haven't barfed the whole time we've been married and I've barfed more in the past ten years than I did all through high school and college." And then Monday, Mark barfed. So Monday wasn't a good day for Mark but it was a good day for Valentine's day. We had our cookies and our english muffins and we started a really great preschool craft and had the Valentine's party at Nate and Devanie's and I even managed to get my chubby little paws on six Krispy Kreme heart-shaped donuts for breakfast on Tuesday. That's when Valentine's day should have ended. But it didn't.
Yesterday wasn't a terrible day, generally. Caleb was in a particularly great mood and the boys got to visit with the tooth fairy in their library class, which Noah was absolutely thrilled about. We babysat Jorge Andres and after only half an hour of head banging, he gave in and decided we weren't ogres afterall. Mark started feeling better and everyone "loved" Hunter's valentines at school. So see, it wasn't so bad. It's just that as the day progressed, my house (which I had managed to keep clean for almost an entire week) started falling apart. And I didn't get to finish the cool preschool craft with the boys that I had spent all morning cutting out hearts for. And I didn't make a cheescake for Mark which I've done almost every Valentine's Day for the past ten years except for the year when Denver was barfing. And I didn't make us a yummy candlelight dinner like I had wanted to. And slowly but surely, the day went to pot.
Denver didn't like his Elmo shirt that I just bought for him last week at Penney's--he liked the boy's shirt at the library that had Star Wars on it. Note: Elmo is for two year olds NOT three year olds.
I offered to take the boys out to play in the snow and Hunter and Noah both chose to stay inside, sitting on the couch with their dad playing Nintendo. Nintendo? Over snowball fights and sledding and snowmen and snowforts and icicles and my complete and undivided attention? Where did I go wrong and would I be a bad mother if I threw the Nintendo in front of Semi during rush hour?
In a desperate attempt to save the day, I sent Mark out to pick up McDonald's for dinner. I rushed around "fancying up" the kitchen table complete with tablecloth, candles and heart confetti and made Valentine coupons for everyone promising to make the cheescake for Mark and make breakfast in bed for the kids. I cut the cheeseburgers into hearts and called the kids in for a candlight dinner and they immediately began to protest and complain about how they didn't want a candlelight dinner and that they weren't hungry. Note: Never try that again.
Then we sped over to the Feuz's for banana splits. I had sort of been hoping Mark would still be too sick to go but he had completely recovered and we both knew if we didn't show up at the Feuz's someone would be offended and that somebody isn't the kind of person you want to offend. So we went and the kids ran off to play, completely forgetting about the banana splits. We sat and chatted for awhile and then it was time to go. On our way out somebody must have farted because Denver barfed and immediately blamed it on Daddy's stinky toot. He had been complaining about a stomachache, but the stink must have sent him over the edge. Of course I didn't know he had barfed until we were halfway down the Feuz's walk when he said he had to barf and I heard Rhonda say something about somebody barfing. At that point I didn't know if I should run for the house or run for a snow-covered bush. So I grabbed him and started for the house. I must have squeezed him too hard because he immediately barfed all over himself and me and the snow. We got the kids loaded into the car and Noah said, "But I forgot about the banana splits," like at that point we'd turn the car around and go back, so he could have a banana split.
Then, to finish things off, I forgot to record American Idol. A million times throughout the day I thought, "Don't forget to set up the recorder for American Idol" and then, in the craziness of the night, I promptly forgot. It's just a tv show, I know, but after watching Nick Jr. and Noggin and Cartoon Network and PBS Kids all day, I sort of look forward to watching something that's not about shapes, numbers, colors or learning the spanish language.
Anyway, Mark wrote me a lovely little love note while he was sick in bed and ultimately, that was the one thing I really wanted for Valentine's day. I just wanted the day to be a little more romantic for my family but I suppose when you are the only girl in a family of boys the word 'romantic' is non-exsistent. Now, if I had come downstairs in a Darth Vader t-shirt and farted and burped really loud and served up buffalo wings and steak and potatoes for dinner and given the kids coupons for unlimited amounts of candy and nintendo time--then I would have scored big and maybe even gotten a big hug and kiss from all five of them. And that's what Valentine's Day is all about--more farting and barfing, less hugging and kissing
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Monday, February 13, 2006
We just had a fun Valentine's Party at Nate and Devanie's. Devanie fired up the chocolate fountain and the cousins exchanged valentine's which was almost as exciting as Christmas and we played a really fun game. The game is super simple to put together and tons of fun to play, especially if you have competitive kids that like to run around. Here's what you do: cut up a bunch of little hearts--mine were about an inch and a half wide. I did about twenty gold hearts with gold cardstock and sixty pink hearts with pink cardstock. If you don't have gold, do red or white or whatever, you just need two different colors. Then have the kids hold a bed sheet in the middle of a large room, like they would if they were playing with a parachute in gym class. Throw all of the hearts in the center of the sheet and have the kids gently shake the hearts around, mixing them up. At some random point shout "Hearts up high," and have the kids shake the sheet really big and toss the hearts up into the air. Then, after they've fallen to the ground have the children scramble and pick up as many hearts as they can. Have the children count their hearts and tally their points--pink hearts are worth one point and gold hearts are worth three. Whoever gets the most point wins. The game only took minutes to throw together but we had so much fun with it--even my sister Melanie couldn't resist joining in and throwing the hearts around!
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Saturday, February 11, 2006
So we watched March of the Peguins last night and after being completely traumatized by the little birds' lives, I've decided that the penguin life is not for me. First of all, there is way too much waddling back and forth between places for me and way too much starving involved. You know how I said in this post that the male penguins go for a whole month without food while they sit on their egg? Well, that wasn't exactly right. They go for over four monthts without food and while they are starving they are also freezing to death (literally) in negative eighty degree weather. Which is another reason I'm not into the penguin thing--it's way too cold. Female penguins loose about 1/3 of their body weight between making and laying their eggs and while that isn't necessarily all bad, (I wouldn't mind losing weight instead of gaining when I'm pregnant) almost immediately after laying their egg they have to waddle 70 miles back to sea and it is only then that they get to eat. Nobody brings them stale French Toast and sausage after they give birth, nor do they get a nice warm shower or a sweet-smelling bundle handed to them. And that's another thing--their little bundle (their egg) has to be transferred to the father before they can walk the 70 miles to their food and they have to transfer the egg just right or they will end up watching in horror as their one egg freezes before their eyes. And if that happens, the poor things have to waddle back to sea in freezing cold weather alone, the whole "march" to find a mate, for naught. Now if all of that isn't mortifying enough, there's more. If they get the egg transferred successfully and get to the sea before freezing or starving to death, they can finally eat but not without the threat of being eaten alive by a starving sea lion. And if they do get swallowed whole, the poor father who is sitting on his egg, starving himself to death (he'll lose a total of half his body weight), is going to be in a real pickle when the baby hatches and no mother comes to relieve him of his duties and bring food for the baby. And if the mother does return from her four month feast, there is no guarantee she'll have a husband or a baby waiting for her upon her return. And perhaps the worst part is, after all of this suffering for nine months, the penguins return to sea, leaving their babies and their mates behind, like none of it ever happened. They just swim off and three months later come back for more. So while the idea of Mark taking care of the kids while I take off for a four month feast sounds nice, I think I'd rather do the taking care of the kids together and leave the starving and freezing and leaving part to the penguins.
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Friday, February 10, 2006
And darn proud!
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Thursday, February 09, 2006
 
Mark's cousin, Catherine started blogging this week. She's a cute, little thing with four kids of her own. Anyway, thinking of her reminded me of Peanut Butter Playdough. The Henrichsen Family put together a cookbook a few years ago and one of the recipes she contributed was for Peanut Butter Playdough. I haven't made it since Hunter was a wee thing, probably six years ago. When I did, Mark was so excited about eating some of it, I was surprised. I'd never heard of the stuff until I had kids of my own. It must be a Henrichsen thing. Anyway, I decided it was time to make some with Noah and Denver. So, that's what we did today. And don't worry Daddy. . . we saved some especially for you.
(To make some for yourself, just mix together equal parts of peanut butter, honey and powdered milk. It's fun to play with and even better to eat!)
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This past weekend we visited our local Build-A-Bear Workshop. Hunter got a $5 gift certificate in the mail and since we needed to go to the mall anyway, we spent Saturday evening there. One of the things Hunter bought for his bear was a pair of Skechers tennis shoes. For some reason I can't explain, Denver took a liking to those itty-bitty tennis shoes and he's been wearing them ever since. Maybe Denver misses his two sizes too small tennis shoes more than we thought.
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Tuesday, February 07, 2006
I like to think of myself as a pretty accepting person. I suppose I'm a little judgemental but I'm usually the target of my own persecution. . . not other people. Anyway, yesterday I sat down to nurse Caleb and turned TLC on for the last five minutes of "A Baby Story." Instead of unwinding and relaxing for a few minutes I saw one of the most disturbing Baby Stories I've ever seen.
First of all it was about a homosexual couple, Michael and Simon. Fine. They're in love and they want to experience the joy of parenthood. Unfortunatly, you can't make a baby with two penises and no uterus. I personally think God made it that way for a reason but for simplicity's sake we'll leave that subject alone and just say that as a result, Michael and Simon had a little bitty problem. That's where Lora comes into the picture.
Lora, Michael's "generous" sister kindly offers to surrogate a baby for the couple--not once but twice. Because I only caught the last five minutes I didn't catch where the sperm and eggs came from but I'm really hoping they weren't from Michael and Lora. Wherever they came from and however they got here, Michal and Simon are now the proud parents of Lucy and Ella, two adorable, gorgeous little girls. I'm sure they'll be loved and cherished but I am still left with one uncomfortable thought: how are two men going to raise two girls? I mean, what do men really know about bras and menstruation and hormones and make-up and slumber parties? Lora mentioned something about it taking an entire community to raise a child but I personally would never be happy with an entire community in lieu of my mother. And vice versa. I believe fathers offer families something that women cannot. And mothers add something to the family dynamic that men cannot substitute. So ultimately I believe a family consisting of a mother and a father is the most complete and that God intended it to be that way and all this same-sex parenting and family members surrogating is just a wee bit disturbing. Am I the only one?
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Saturday, February 04, 2006
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. . . is a carseat, some binoculars and a little imagination and you too can go for a ride down Splash Mountain!
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Thursday, February 02, 2006
Your four months old now. Your hair is finally growing on the top of your head and it's brown. I thought for sure, before you were born, that you would be a blondie, just like your brothers. I have a feeling you'll be proving me wrong quite a bit in the years to come. Unfortunately, you have a great big bald spot on the back of your head, which is no fault of your own but a side effect of being the fourth son of a very busy mom. You spend a little more time in your swing than my heart desires--how I wish I could sit and cuddle you forever. Now that you are showing some interest in laying on your belly, maybe that little bald patch won't be around much longer. Your eyes are blue but a few specks of brown have crept into them and it may not be long before your looking up at me with big brown eyes. But most of all, my favorite feature is your eyebrows . . . I love your eyebrows.
You've become quite a pro at sucking your thumb and prefer your thumb over anything else. You're especially good at finding your thumb when you have some sort of cloth in your hand whether it's a burp cloth or a blanket or my shirt and I can't help but wonder if your going to end up being a "blankie baby." I love that you suck your thumb. Maybe it's because you look so dang cute when you do it or it might be because I sucked my thumb for eleven years and it's a common bond we share. It's probably both. The amount of drool you produce is astounding and everyone thinks you're teething but we haven't seen any of your pearly whites yet. That, however, hasn't kept you from biting me twice. You also like to claw my breast when I nurse you and I haven't decided which one elicits more pain.
You rolled over just tonight while you were laying on Hunter's bed. When I left you you were on your back and when I returned you were on your stomach looking around happily. I guess you got tired of the ceiling and decided to check out the floor. Most of the time you wiggle your way onto your side while you cry and scream at me to hurry up but you haven't made it all the way over until tonight. I wonder what you'll do next. Getting a laugh out of you is a challenge. You tense up and stifle every giggle I conjure up but someday soon we'll have you laughing. You've always been a little uptight but I don't blame you with three big brothers around screamin' and fightin' all day and your crazy momma shoutin' and cryin'. Things will settle down eventually and I bet you'll relax as soon as we teach you a few wrestling moves of your own.
Your brothers love you desperately. You don't know it but they fight every morning about who gets to lay by you and who gets to talk to you. Denver especially loves you and although he's a little rough sometimes, his intentions are always good. The other day you were sleeping on the couch and Daddy was in the shower. Denver noticed you didn't have a blanket and in trying to wrap you up, you ended up on the floor. He ran to get Daddy and immediately told him what had happened. He was so worried about you. And just a few nights ago, as I was making dinner and you were sitting in your swing, Denver was entertaining you by showing you his different matchbox cars. I noticed that you had stopped swinging, so in passing I gave the swing a great big push. Denver jumped right up and stopped the swing and said, "Oh no! That's too fast for my baby." You may not get snuggled as much as you would like and our home may be a little crazy, but you are loved more than words could possibly describe.
I can hardly believe it's been four months and look at you grow. You started sleeping through the night on New Year's Day and you've slept soundly from 9:30pm until 6:00am ever since. When you wake up you are nothing but smiles and eager to play with anyone that will wake up enough to chat with you. You especially love laying on your stomach in front of our bedroom window, cracked open just a bit so the cold air startles you, as you watch the day unfold. You only take cat naps throughout the rest of the day and sometimes I wish you'd sleep just a bit longer but I know I'd miss snuggling you and watching you smile if you did. Everyday I'm with you it seems you've learned something new. Part of me wants you to hurry up but most of me wants you to slow down. Everytime I blink my eyes it seems you've grown and my heart aches at the thought of you getting big and independent. I cherish the quiet moments I get each day when I sit down with you in my arms and your thumb in your mouth and just listen to all your little noises and see your little smiles and know that you are mine, no matter how big you grow or how much you change.
Happy four months "Mr. Delicious" and I love you.
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Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Interesting Facts From Our Home to Yours
Denver has an invisible friend. Her name is Cameron Fanny Henrichsen but he just calls her "Fanny" for short.
Hawks will eat chickens. Apparently they'll swoop down from the sky and snatch up the chicken and fly away. It seems a little like cannibalism--one bird eating another bird, but I guess if chickens eat eggs then hawks are allowed to eat chickens. Anyway, one tried to snatch Lucky the other day. Fortunately, Lucky knows how to scream for help and I know her well enough that I know when she's in trouble. Lucky is no longer allowed to wander the yard unsupervised in the dead of winter.
It costs almost $1000 to heat our little 1700 sq. ft. home in the winter. It costs almost $400 a month to keep it cool in the summer. And the worst: you can't find a 1700 sq. ft. home in our little neighborhood for less than $500,000. That is just sick and wrong considering most of the homes here are 60 years old and then some.
It costs $4600 to attend a 10-month pre-K program out here. People apply for scholarships and financial aid in order to send their kids to preschool--just plain stupid if you ask me. A semester at BYU costs less if you are a member of the church. So does that mean preschool is more important than a college education?
We can't afford to live here.
Down south, way down south, it is the male penguins that sit on their eggs and hatch them. If that isn't cool enough, they stay on the eggs for over a month with no food, starving themselves, while the females are out fattening themselves up so they can nurse the babies when they get back. Male penguins also make milk for their young by digesting their own body fat since they can't get up and leave the eggs or their babies to go look for food. That is way cool!
I wish I was a female penguin.
Speaking of females, I am 32 years old according to the Chinese Lunar Calendar. According to the Chinese Calendar, if I ever want to have a girl baby, this is my year to conceive one. The odds go downhill after this year. And yes, all four of my boys were predicted to be boys according to the Chinese Calendar. Wanna find out how old you are in China and check out the Chinese Lunar Calendar for predicting whether your baby is gonna be pink or blue? Click here.
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