A !@#^$%*(%^&#!!!! ing Update

Josh was pretty scared when he got home from school today.  He ran straight from the front door and into his room, where I found him hiding in his closet.  It took quite a bit of coaxing to get him out and talking to me.

Poor kid.  Poor, poor kid.  He was so scared!  And sad!  He sobbed in my arms for a good 10 minutes before he could speak coherently and answer a few questions.  When he finally did I learned a few very important things:

1. Did he know what the word meant?  No.
2. Did he know that the word was bad? No.
3. Who did he hear this word from?  Spencer had been spelling it on the bus, too.

 My feelings on these answers?

1. I believed that he did not know what the word meant.
2. I kinda mostly believed that he did not know the word was bad.  What I mean is, I think he probably knew it was a naughty word but didn't realize just how naughty.
3. Figures.

Spencer swore up and down that it wasn't him.  He was totally lying because Spencer is a terrible liar.  I gave them each a pretty good talking to this afternoon.  Then Lance gave them another good talking to this evening.  (I was at a PTO meeting.  The joy.)

Even though we know Spencer knows better, we felt like it wasn't really fair to harshly punish Josh when he didn't really know what he was doing.  But they've both been very plainly warned about what the consequences will be if we have any other swearing issues - spoken or spelled or otherwise - in the future.

Oh - in case you're wondering (and for future posterity) the word Josh (and Spencer) spelled?

Fudge.

Only it wasn't fudge.

!@#^$%*(%^&#!!!!

I just received a phone call from Josh's bus driver.  Apparently, my precious little kindergartener was caught spelling cuss words on the bus this morning.

Oh, the joys of parenting.

The bus driver was really nice about the whole thing, and was just as surprised at Josh's behavior as I was.  Still, he has to be written up for it, which I'm assuming means I'll have to sign some sort of paper and the school will learn about this.  (I really don't know - I've never been through this before!)

I knew that at some point we would have to deal with swearing.  Like it or not (and I don't) it's a very prevalent part of school.  I just really didn't expect to have to deal with a six year old cussing on the bus.  Sheesh.

Maren Fun Fact: It was a very well-known fact among my circle of (non-LDS) friends in high school that I didn't swear.  They also knew that I didn't like them swearing.  Sometimes this stopped them, sometimes it didn't.  They didn't really harass me about it or give me a hard time, but it was brought up often enough that I knew they noticed and thought about it.  I don't feel all holier-than-thou when it comes to swearing; I just subscribe to the Dowager Countess of Grantham's line of thinking.  (See above.)

Well, Josh might not be in severe trouble at school, but the same cannot be said for at home.  Since this is something I simply will not tolerate in my children, poor Josh will have to take a harsher punishment than usual so that the others will learn from his mistake.  (And by others my mean Spencer, since Cole and Tess are too young to understand what's going on.)

Now I'm off to search for good FHE lessons about swearing and draw up the list of jobs Josh will have to start working on when he gets home.  He'll probably want to swear again when he sees it.

Worst Fishing Spot Ever

This morning I was at Wal-Mart with Tess and Cole.  About five minutes in Cole declares that he needs to go potty. 

Of course you need to go now, Cole, and not right before we left the house when I asked you.

Anywho, we make our way over to the restrooms at the front of the store because those were closer than the family one in the back. (No need to risk a an accident, right?)  We walk into the bathroom, me with all our coats and my purse, Tess with a hand full of fish crackers I had given her right before Cole's declaration, and Cole holding... well, himself, as little boys are wont to do.

We find the cleanest stall, pack ourselves in there, and Cole gets down to business.  At this point Tess drops a goldfish on the floor.  Now normally I am a firm believer in the 5 second rule.  (Heck, let's be honest.  This child has been known to eat food from the kitchen floor that's been there since breakfast when dinner is running a little late.) ((Why yes, I hate sweeping the kitchen floor.  Why do you ask?))  But this was a bathroom floor.  At Wal-Mart.  Five micro-seconds would be far too long.

So I swoop down and, despite Tess's major protest, I pick up the goldfish and toss it in the potty, thinking that this would kill two birds with one stone: stop Tess from eating it and entertain Cole.  (Who was still going potty.  He REALLY needed to go!)

But I was wrong.  Cole kinda freaked out about it.  "NO!!!  No fishy in there!  Oh no!  Oh no!"

This made Tess start to freak out as well.  "Mine!  Mine cracker!"

Dang.

Well, too late now. 

Cole finishes up and Tess tries to climb out from under the stall.  I turn around for half a second to stop her, and then turn back to discover that Cole has

PICKED UP THE SOGGY GOLDFISH FROM THE PEE-FILLED WAL-MART TOILET BOWL.

Erlack.

"BAAAAHHHH!!!"  I yell, probably louder than the situation warrants.  "PUT THAT BACK!!!" And I swat the goldfish back into the potty just before the child tries to

PUT THE SOGGY GOLDFISH IN HIS MOUTH.

Then I march both children over to the sinks, where I suds all of our hands and vigorously wash all of the public restroom germs off as best I can. 

Fortunately, the rest of the shopping trip was much less exciting.  And gross.

Top Secret Kid Meeting

Every morning a different child is "the problem child".  The one who causes my morning to be a bit more stressful and frustrating than needed.  The one who feels the need to press my buttons juuussst a enough to make me growl. The one who takes my attention hostage because otherwise the entire morning is derailed.

And I swear they take turns deciding who is going to be the obnoxious one the next morning.  I picture them huddled in the storage room, hurriedly whispering their plans for the next day.

Spencer: Cole, that tantrum you threw this morning was brilliant.

Cole: Thanks, I've really been working on my back arching technique.  Was the screaming a bit over the top?

Josh: No man, no.  It was perfect.

Spencer: Okay, Tess, are you ready for tomorrow?

Tess: All set. I'm going to rub my oatmeal in my hair.  Then I'll throw anything within reach just as soon as mom leaves the table to help Josh get the temperature for his bath just right.  When she comes back and is getting a towel to clean me up I'll pull the tablecloth - and anything still on it - clean off of the table!

Spencer: Hmmm... It's a bit juvenile, but it'll have to do.

Tess: Dude, get off my back.  I'm freakin' seven years younger than you!  Of course it's juvenile.

Spencer: Yeah, but I thought girls were supposed to be more mature than boys.

Tess: Shut your pie hole, Spencer.

Spencer: Alrighty then.  Josh - you've got Tuesday morning.

Josh: Right.  I'm gonna get up extra-early and interrupt her scripture reading time.  I'll harass her every 38 seconds for breakfast until she gives up her only alone time and starts getting things ready.  I've calculated how much milk will be left by then and I'm 98% sure she'll ask me to go downstairs to get another gallon. I'll hem and haw and make a really big deal out of it.  The theatrics alone will take a good five minutes.  Then I'll whine and cry and plead helplessness for everything else I have to do before school.

Spencer: You, sir, are a true artist.

Josh: *tips his imaginary hat*

Spencer: Okay, that leads us to Wednesday.  Just so we don't shake things up too much, I'll do my usual routine: wake up super grouchy, take 30 minutes just to get dressed, whine and shout about the chores I have to do, and then have a hissy fit when I can't tie my shoes just right.

Cole: I love it when you do that.  I can't wait until I have shoes that tie.

Spencer: All too soon, Cole, all too soon.  Okay, let's plan on meeting again Wednesday night.  Until then, good luck and God speed.

Everyone puts their hands into a circle.

All Four Kids: Break mom's sanity!

The Dinner that Just Won't Bake

***UPDATE***

Last night I baked this stupid chicken dinner for 1 hour at 400 degrees.  It was finally cooked!  Well, mostly kinda.  The chicken, as expected, was a bit dry.  But some of the potatoes were still raw!  The green beans, though, were perfect.

I give up.

***THUS ENDS THIS SAGA***

Okay, so there's this recipe on Pinterest that I discovered a while ago.  I'd link to it, but it's one of those weirdo pins that doesn't take you to a site, just an image.  So here's the image and the instructions:

 

4 raw chicken breasts, 6 new potatoes, 3-4 can green beans (fresh or canned-really any green veggie would work. Broccoli is good, too). Arrange in 9x13 dish. Sprinkle with 2 packets of Italian dressing mix and then top with a half stick of melted butter. Cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Serves 4-5.

Not exactly the most healthy meal in the world, but definitely not the worst.  It's super easy and - get this - my ENTIRE family will eat it.  Seriously, that is major.

I like to make it on Sundays for all of the reasons mentioned above.  I've made this dinner several times and have never had a problem. 

Until last night.

I did everything per usual for the recipe, put it in the oven, and waited an hour.  I pulled it out at 5:30 and...

it wasn't cooked.

Well, it was slightly cooked.  But not cooked enough for having been in the oven for an entire hour at 350.  I couldn't figure it out.  I had already turned the oven off, so I couldn't check to see what temperature I had set it at.  But I felt the oven and it was still pretty hot.  (I consider this a mom super power.  I can't tell the exact temperature of an oven, but I can tell when it's within the range of 350 degrees or even 450 degrees.  Hey, you cook enough, you figure you these things out.)

I figured, well, maybe I had put too much foil on?  I usually only put one sheet on, but I had put two this time because the one didn't seem tight enough.  (The dinner basically steams itself.)

Normally this wouldn't be that big of a deal, but that night I had to be at the church at 6:15 for our YW New Beginnings program.  Which gave me basically 30 minutes to pull together and eat a dinner for my family.  (And this family, by the way, was STARVING at this point.)

Leftovers it was.

In a surprising turn of events, my pickiest eater - Josh - now loves leftover nights because I give him different challenges.  One night it'll be that you have to have at least three different foods and at least one has to be a veggie, or you have to have at least 5 different foods and at least least one is a fruit and another is orange.  Apparently Josh loves a good challenge.

So I wrapped the dang chicken dinner up and put it in the fridge, figuring I would use it for dinner the next night.  (Today.)

Well, this morning I decided to make some bread, just to see if my oven was behaving.  It totally was and I made an especially awesome loaf of bread, if I do say so myself.  (Seriously, sometimes things just really turn out well - just like this loaf of bread.)  So I chalked up yesterday's misadventure to some sort of user - not oven - failure.

This afternoon I got the casserole dish out about an hour before putting it in the oven so that it could come to room temperature.  Then I put it in a very specifically set 350 degree oven for 30 minutes.

I waited 30 minutes.

It did not work.

Well, I mean, it kinda worked.  But it was definitely not cooked.  I got ticked, took the foil off, and put it back in the oven for another 20 minutes.

This is what it looked like after those 20 minutes:

Okay, it's probably kinda hard to tell from these pictures, but this is NOT a cooked dinner!!  Especially not one that has now, as of this point, been cooked for just shy of TWO FREAKING HOURS!!!!!

By this point I was completely frazzled and frustrated with the entire situation.  I could barely put a sentence together, I was so ticked.  (Much to Lance's amusement.)

SERIOUSLY!?!  It'd be one thing if I had never made it before.  Or if my bread had failed and it was the oven's fault.  But no.

The chicken was still pink in the middle.  The green beans still raw.  The potatoes still hard.

At that point I would have called it quits and loaded everyone into the car for McDonald's, but I had that lovely loaf of bread already sliced (and it's just not as good the second day), and Josh was already in his pajamas (it was a pretty muddy afternoon).  Lance saved us all by recommending we have grilled cheese sandwiches.

They were good sandwiches, but I have to admit that even with the yummy bread my sandwich was tinged with defeat.

Stupid chicken dinner.

So this evening I decided to test the oven again, this time with a recipe that baked at 350 degrees, just like the stupid dinner.  I made some chocolate zucchini bread (breakfast of champions!) and I just pulled it out of the oven.

The bread is perfect.

It's not the oven.

And it's not my timer.

It's the dinner.  It is somehow possessed.

Possessed by an unbakeable demon.

I plan on giving it one more shot tomorrow.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Little Orphan Tessie

For around the last month or so Tess has discovered the joy of playing with kitchen towels.  This means the floors of my house are constantly littered with kitchen towels, both clean and dirty.  (Oh, the joy!)

She would cuddle them and lay them on her babies and play peek-a-boo and, I kid you not, put them over her head and then walk around and bonk into walls and furniture.  And then cry about it.  And then do it again.

Toddlers have never been accused of being the brightest bulbs in the bunch, right?

What toddlers are often accused of, however, is being the cutest things ever.  Tess is no exception.

For the past few days she has started wearing her dish towels like veils.  I honestly have NO IDEA where she picked this up from.  It's not like we're sitting around playing "wedding" or "princesses" or anything else that involves veils. And I can't think of any TV shows that she watches that would have that. It must be chromosomal - inborn in all girls.

Anywho, she now demands that I tie the towel around her head and she then waltzes and prances around, insisting that I tell her how "pritty" she is.  (And oh, she is!)

Today I finally got a few shots of her today, which is recently easier said than done since she only wants to see what's on the camera's screen, rather than actually sitting still for a picture.

 

With the ratty towel, crazy bed head, and lost pants, I think Tess looks more like an Eastern European war orphan than a princess.

The scratches on her cheek and the goose egg on her forehead are nice touches, don't you think?

Perhaps I'll have to start making some princess clothes for a certain orphan's upcoming 2nd birthday.

Gigi is Fifty and Fabulous!

A few months ago my BFF Gigi told me that she wanted her husband, Craig, to throw her a party, and would I mind hinting this to him to make sure it happened?  Knowing Craig like I do, I didn't hint - I bluntly told him what Gigi wanted!  Seeing the rather alarmed look on his face, I volunteered to help with the planning.

Okay, I kinda took over the planning.

It couldn't be helped, though. Craig was so accommodating whenever I asked for his opinion about the party.  And I lurve planning parties.  It is the best.  And I lurve Gigi.  She is the best.  So Craig, thank you for asking Gigi to marry you and convincing her to move to Indiana so we could meet and become such good friends and then letting me plan this birthday party.  I totally owe you one.

Any good party starts with an invite, and here was Gigi's.  I'm of two minds about print vs. emailed invites.  There's nothing like getting a printed invite in the mail, right?  It makes the event feel extra special.  But there's also nothing like the convenience and easiness of an emailed invite.  (Which is what we went for here.  Because I'm lazy.  And cheap.)

I spent much of the month planning decorations and games.  This helped stave off some of the dang February funk.  I thought my "What Does 50 Look Like" game was quite clever.  Players had to guess which jars held exactly 50 items.  No one chose the correct three jars; interestingly, 3 kids guessed two of the right jars.  We also played a fun Gigi trivia game, which Craig won but I decided that was a little bit cheating, so Gigi's sister-in-law won instead, which was only slightly less cheating... hmmm...

I also gathered a ton of pictures of Gigi from Gigi and her sister.  Then I printed them up in black and white and taped them all over the place. It was so fun to see all those pictures of Gigi growing up.  I especially loved the one in Jr. High.  Don't we all have an achingly awkward Jr. High picture?  Kudos to Gig for being willing to let me display it.
 

I also hung up different things about 1963 around the room.  Here's the movie corner.  I was truly surprised about The Sword in the Stone being released then - I totally thought it was from the 80's.  (Probably because that's when I watched it as a kid...)

Here's the Fun Facts corner.  Fact: zip codes weren't implemented in the U.S. until 1963!

Fact: there is no way you can buy a house worth living in today for the amount you would have paid in 1963.
 

And because I love advertising, I also put up a few ads from 1963.  I think print ads can really give you some good insights into the culture at the time.  (Fact: in college I was the geek that could be found pouring over the advertisements in LIFE magazines from the 1950's.  Why no, I didn't date much.  Why do you ask?)
 

I have always wanted to hang up tissue paper pom poms all over the basement, and Gigi's party was my chance.  This is actually a picture from today.  They're all over the kids' desk because I don't quite know what to do with them all...
 

But here they were hanging up.  It was hard to get a picture that showed them all.  But they looked pretty cool.
 

And here's something else I've always wanted to make - a paper streamer backdrop.  I love it!!  Cheap, easy, and big impact!  And aren't you impressed with the spread we put out?  It was super yummy.

Bergen was especially impressed.  And especially hungry.  Look at that loaded plate!
 

Did you see the cake on the table?  Yep, I made a cake.  You all know of my love/hate relationship with cakes.  But because I love Gigi I was willing to make a cake for her.  (This was especially daunting because Gigi is the queen of birthday cakes.  Seriously.  She made a Herbie the Love Bug cake one year and it looked like Herbie the Love Bug.)  Gigi's favorite cake is German Chocolate, which of course I had never made before.  And of course I chose a rather difficult from scratch recipe because it sounded the tastiest to me.  And of course I had fits over making it, but in the end it turned out to look pretty good.  Right?!  (Please tell me people weren't just being polite...)

Well, they didn't have to lie about how it tasted - it was soooo good!  (Not to toot my own horn or anything.)  I made one slight alteration to it by using toasted almonds instead of walnuts, and I think i like it better that way.
 

Anyways.  Back to the party.  But not really, because I didn't do so well at taking pictures during the party.  As I am wont to do at all my parties, dang it.

Apparently Cole got drunk on the cake pops or something.
 

This picture is kind of deceptive because the basement got pretty crowded there for a while.  I think this was towards the end of the evening.
 

I had a blast planning and putting the party together.  I also had a blast just being at the party and spending time with my friends.  I'm hoping Gigi did, too.  She's a great friend and a great blessing in my life, and I was so glad to be able to do this for her!  (Time to end this before the tears start flowin'...)
 

(Hey, look, Gig!  We finally have a picture together!)

Valentine's Day 2013

My Valentine's Day was spent in much the same way I spent my last wedding anniversary: being excruciatingly involved with the poop of three of my children.  (I won't tell you which three children it was, but I will tell you it was not Spencer.)

I won't go into details, but seriously.  Poop.

Having spent my day and evening in this way - twice, and each time on a day dedicated to romance - I can only assume one thing: my children hate love. 

Okay, that's probably not true.  My kids love Valentine's Day and all the things that come along with the holiday.  (But mostly the candy.) So what I should more accurately assume is this: my children hate me.

If you love someone you give them chocolates or flowers.  If  you hate someone you make them deal with your poop.  That's just common sense.

But enough of poop.  On to Valentine's Day!

For whatever reason, the Kindergarten classes at our school always have a fairy tale character dress up day on Valentine's Day.  Josh chose to be a gnome.

Yes, he kinda looks like Santa.  I think it's the red shirt.  But he refused to change it, so there you go.

Yesterday morning Josh was getting quite upset because I couldn't tell him a single fairy tale that had a gnome in it.  Do you know any?  I mean, a gnome is a pretty fairy tale-ish character, but I couldn't think or find a single one.  I could tell that we were reaching a crisis point - if I didn't think of something fast, Josh would probably refuse to wear the costume and I would be forced to come up with another costume in the last 20 minutes we had before school.

I must be living right because suddenly "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves" came to mind.  I told him the story and he decided he wanted to be a dwarf instead.  Fortunately, the same costume worked!  Morning (and sanity) saved!

We had our traditional heart-shaped pink pancakes for breakfast.  This is the only picture I have of them - Spencer's has a small one in his hand.  I'm so awesome at remembering to take pictures, right?

I was so happy when I discovered that Tess still fit into this onesie!  Three of my four kids have now worn it, which makes me unreasonably satisfied with life.

You know what else makes me unreasonably satisfied?  That Tess would actually let me put piggy tails in her hair.

It wasn't all smiles that morning.

Where's my candy!?!??!??!

Cole has a matching shirt.  Dang, my kids are cute.

Cole didn't really understand the whole idea of Valentine's Day, but he knew his brothers were excited and that was good enough for him!

Josh brought this home from school.  This is funny for three reasons: 1) "Malkling" and
Frens". I know I shouldn't make fun of Kindergarten spelling, but that's pretty awesome.  2) If you know Josh at all, he does the opposite of putting his heart into making friends.  The boy is a true introvert and would rather do anything than deal with making friends.  Oh, once he's comfortable with the person he's fine, but in the beginning?  Not so much.

That evening we gave the kids their usual little gifts - a box of chocolates and books.  Tess was quite pleased at getting her own chocolates and quickly gobbled down - and then spit out - each of her chocolates.  Ever the lady, Tess.

Cole also got in on that action, only he didn't spit out the chocolates after he was done chewing.  Thank you, Cole.

I think I did a pretty good job of picking out books this year.

Tess got this book:

Omigosh.  She LOVES this book.  And so do Cole and Josh, for that matter.  I have had to read it at least 10 times this morning.  This is good and bad, for obvious reasons.

Cole is a bit obsessed with school buses right now, so this was an obvious choice.

He also loves the original "Monster at the End of This Book", so of course I had to get the sequel.  (Not quite as charming, in my opinion, but it gets the job done.)

For Josh I chose a beloved book from my childhood.

It's actually out of print now, so it was kinda hard to find.  But I did and it was totally worth it because he giggled like a proper Kindergarten boy should at the Stupid Family the whole time I read it.

Josh also got one of my other favorites.  (Can you tell I like James Marshall?)

Spencer go this classic.

 

It's a pretty easy book for him, but, like I said, a classic.  I'm pretty sure he'll love it once he gets around to reading it.  (He's reading The Lightening Thief right now.)

I also got him his first Guinness Book, which I'm pretty sure is a rite of passage for boys his age.  He wasn't that impressed until he started reading it - and then he wouldn't put it down or stop telling me different records.  Fun times.

Lance surprised me with a little scavenger hunt for my gifts.  He went a little above and beyond this year and bought me some Burpee tomato cages I had been coveting.  (Nothin' says love to a gardener like really good tomato cages!)  He also got me a bag and some earrings that I had been wanting for a while.  (Woo-hoo for Amazon's wish list! :)  I loved them.  And I love him.  And it totally made up for all the poop I had to deal with that day.  (Well, mostly.)