The files

Me: What is this a picture of?
Ida: That's me putting jam on the moon.

***

Theo: You would get all covered up with a huge Band-Aid, all over your body.
Ida: No, lots and lots of LITTLE TEENY Band-Aids all over my body.

***

Ida: Mom, you can see these pink things on my feet--that means my socks are on.

***

Ida: This is going to be a bat that haunts the night.

***

Me: That's a lot of chips, Ida.
Ida: I'm going to eat some, so it won't be so many.

***

Theo: Mom, I'm going to smell these jeans and see if they're clean or not.

***

Theo: I wasn't able to toast my bread. I toasted it, but it was staying wiggly.

***

Ida: I don't WANNA do ballet, I wanna do WRESTLING!

***

Ida: I want to eat something that moves.
Me: What? What does that mean?
Ida: Something that moves with a knife, like cream cheese on a bagel.

***

Ida: I want to sleep in the trash can tonight.
Theo: If you sleep in the trash can you might have bad dreams.

Among other things.

From the files

Me: Lars has a messy diaper.
Ida (shrugging): Sorry.

***

Ida: Theo calls this guy "Poopy," but I call him "Steve."

***

Me: Are you sure you don't want to wear this dress? It's really cute.
Ida: And you really want me to wear it. But I'm not going to.

***

Ida: Sydney said in class that her dad is teaching her how to snore. Because she doesn't know how, but he does.

***

Theo: I don't want to be alone in the kitchen.
Me: Sometimes I like to be alone. Why don't you want to be alone?
Theo: Because I'm not big enough like you yet.

***

Me: Ida, did you talk to anyone at preschool today?
Ida: I went on the seesaw with Lexi.
Me: How fun! Did you talk to her?
Ida: No, I just looked at her. But it's okay to look at people.
Me: Yeah, that's fine.
Ida: If there was a sign with a picture of someone looking at people, and a circle around it with a line through it, then that would mean no looking at people and it wouldn't be okay.
Me: Yeah, I guess it wouldn't.

More from the archives

Ida: "Look what I found in my popsicle. A popsicle stick! It's sticking out!"

Theo: "Mom, you and Dad don't have any stuff."
Me: "What? We don't have any stuff? What kind of stuff?"
Theo: "Stuff like a teddy bear or a teddy rabbit, or a teddy anything."

Ida: "I'm gonna get a sword 'cause I saw an ant in the kitchen. So I'm gonna get a sword and... sword him."

Ida: "If a ladybug and snake asked us, 'Hey guys, are you food?' we would say, 'NO! We're guys!!' "

Ida (playing with an empty cardboard box) "Theo, do you want to sit on this nice warm box?"

Ida: "Mom, when you comb my hair it makes my hair wiggle."

Ida: "Mom, can I play a game on your phone?"
Me: "No, not right now."
Ida: "OK.... can I play checkers?"
Me: "Yes!"

Theo: "I'm gonna go be a dinosaur with Cutter Man. Cutter Man! Oh, Cutter Man! 'Yes, I'm over here cutting.' "

Several of Theo's toy guys have names, including but not limited to Cutter Man, Other One, Adder Wan (that's the sci-fi version of "Other One"), and Juicy White Grape.


Ida: "Bad people make you do bad things. Like killing bugs--that's a bad thing. And killing your mom and dad, and putting lamps on tables, those are bad things also. Or spilling food or taking pictures off the walls."


What a bunch of weirdos.

Friday photo: Didn't happen.

And, Friday photo is once again down the tubes. Sorry!! Instead, for your reading enjoyment, here are some updates to my list of Things My Kids Have Said Lately. And also a cell-phone picture of them playing in the sandbox. (It's so tiny, but they really don't seem to mind.)

Ida: "We're making Gayatri!"
Me: "Really, how to you make Gayatri?"
Ida: "We broke Gayatri and put her in the pan."
(Gayatri is a friend and their babysitter. And apparently--I'm just guessing here--has the consistency of raw spaghetti noodles.)

Ida: "Hello Kitty's getting ready for her birthday party present Christmas."

Theo: "Ida, fingers out of your mouth."
Ida: "I'm just keeping them warm."

I love listening to Ida eat Cheerios. She actually says "Nom nom nom nom" and sighs in contentment while she's eating it.

Theo: "I'm still hungry."
Me: "OK, you can have some broccoli."
Theo: "OK." (pause) "...That's one choice."

Ida and I were sitting on the floor in her room, playing. She held her blanket up to my back and said, "Do you want to wear this as a cape on your back, or go out of my room?"

(Apparently the kids have picked up on my trick of presenting "options" that aren't really optional.)

Ida: "I only like peppers that are not cooked. I don't like cooked peppers."
Me: "Why not?"
Ida: "Because I just like cooked marshmallows."

I was teaching the kids some tongue twisters and I heard Theo practicing a few minutes later: "Peter Piper pickle pickle peppers...beautiful...in His Son, Jesus Christ...in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Theo and Ida were sitting on my bed and Theo was talking about....something.
Ida (interrupting): "Theo, look what came out of my armpit! A crumb!!"
Theo: "Oh." (pause) "Good." (keeps talking)
Ida: "Theo!! Did you see the crumb?!?!"
(Mostly I loved how indignant she was that Theo would dare ignore something so momentous as a crumb coming out of Ida's armpit.)

Ida, at the end of her bedtime prayer: "Please bless that we don't kick a ball into somebody's head, and it hurts. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

And, just so I don't leave him out.
Lars: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH"

If Mr. Rogers Had a Blog

A while ago, mom-inspiration struck me with a definitive strike. You know how that happens...? Rarely...? Anyway my kids were kind of thrown off this summer what with the new person living in our house and our entire routine getting thrown out the window. They had a lot of tantrums. A lot. One day I told them that when they were upset or afraid or angry or sad, instead of throwing a tantrum they could ask for a hug.

I know that sounds so corny and only people like Mr. Rogers can get away with talking about things like this. If Mr. Rogers had a blog he would probably have written a post about asking for a hug when you want to throw a tantrum. Not to say that my ideas about raising kids are on par with his (I'm willing to bet that his kids never tried to gouge out each other's eyes...not that mine have...ahem) but you know what I mean. Anyway if you imagine a graph, a tantrum-hug quotient if you will, the number of tantrums went down and the number of hugs went up once we implemented Ask For A Hug. Cross my heart.

That is not to say that they don't have tantrums anymore. Boy Howdy, today Theo threw a doozy. Such a doozy that it made me say the words Boy Howdy. They still cry and get upset numerous times a day, and then ask for a hug, and sometimes ask for hugs out of the blue (which they didn't really do before) which interestingly sometimes uncovers a problem I might not have known was there. When they ask for a hug it's like a call to me to investigate or just try to be more attentive to the situation. Or sometimes it's a clever way for Ida to get out of bed no fewer than 16 times after bedtime, because who is going to refuse a hug from a sleepy-eyed 3-year-old in pink footie pajamas at 10 p.m.? Definitely not me.

Overall I really think the hug suggestion got through to them. And actually it helped me too. I have a bit of a temper myself and have been known to throw a few tantrums in my day. Boy Howdy have I. And I realized that the same thing works for me, maybe not always literally, but the idea of it does. The act of asking for a hug is like reciting a mantra, an incantation that delivers recognition of what I really want most of the time when my temper is flaring up: for someone to understand me and to tell me that it's OK to feel the way I am feeling.

Anyway. Thanks for visiting, neighbor. "It's such a good feeling to know you're alive...It's such a happy feeling...You're growing inside..."





Speaking of Mr. Rogers, loved this article that Cousin Karls posted a while back: Can You Say...Hero?

Chick-Fil-A, you slay me

Earlier this week Chick-Fil-A hosted a "daddy-daughter date night" which required reservations. The girls got roses and...a limo ride.

Over the top. Ida loved it.

Snapshot

Recently I started keeping a list of funny things I've heard Ida say. The list is on the side of my fridge so I forget most of them by the time I get around to writing anything. Also the likelihood of losing the scrap of paper is high, but now I have a few snapshots of Ida's world recorded a little bit more permanently:

• "Look at that snowman! He lost his shoes."
• "Okay, hands. Five more minutes, and then it's sleeves' turn." (see also: "Okay, fork. Five more minutes, and then it's spoon's turn")
• At the grocery store candy aisle I asked if she wanted a candy cane and her answer was "I want everything!"
• "I got an owie sometimes."
• "Sometimes I fell down the stairs and bonked my head."
• "It's not chocolate time. It's not marshmallow time. It's just breakfast time."
• Her ear was clogged from being at the pool: "I want my ear back on!"
• "We don't eat frogs. We just eat dinner. Dinners are not yucky."

At one point yesterday afternoon Theo really wanted to play with Ida and she really wanted to be alone. (Not common--it's usually the opposite.) Ida was sitting at the bottom of the stairs and he asked, "Ida, can I sit by you?" She shook her head and moved up one stair. He moved up one stair too and asked again, "Ida, can I sit by you?" This back-and-forth continued stair by stair until they had reached the top of the stairs and Theo said, "Ida... there aren't any stairs left."

Recently Theo has been a little bit obsessed with "when we lived in the brown house" (the brown brick condos we moved from last spring and currently live across the street from). So has Ida, although I doubt she actually remembers it; she pretty much just repeats what Theo says about it.

Even though it has only been since April and we drive by it every day, I am kind of surprised that Theo remembers as much as he does about the actual condo--for instance, that we had a balcony, and brown blinds on the bedroom windows; that he had drawers under his bed, that we took the stroller to the pool, and that John and Sharon were our neighbors. "The brown house" is a unit of time to Theo, like "when we lived in the brown house" was when he learned how to use the toilet, and when Ida was born, and when certain pictures or rugs or paint colors were in different rooms than they are in our current house.

Theo has never been a big talker but he has opened up a lot lately, even just in the past few weeks. When he strikes up conversations with me I am always amazed to think of what must have been going on in his head and we never knew until he was ready to tell us. Right now he loves to talk about time passing, what he was doing at a certain point in the past, what he's doing now, and what he will be doing in the future, and also what Ida will be doing when she gets to be four like him.

The other day in the car both kids were telling me about what they did "yesterday." Theo: "I went to the zoo yesterday, and I got water sprayed on my head." Ida: "And we cleaned Theo's teeth!" The last time we went to the zoo was last summer, and the last time Theo went to the dentist was in September or October. So...as you can see "yesterday" is a pretty broad term.

Girl talk.

Girl talk! Boys, avert your eyes!

By the way I think Matt really, really likes it a lot when I post pictures like this.

So. Last week we were having a very mundane discussion in the car and I may have gotten a little dramatic when Matt's replies were not what I was looking for. I asked him, "Are you done being weird?" to which he replied, "Are you done being emotional?" to which I replied, "I will be, in about 8 to 12 days," to which he surrendered with a frustrated laugh. Nothing can unhinge Matt like PMS Wife can, except for maybe a big, ugly BYU loss.

Of course you may know that Matt's "Unhinged" is comparable to my "Almost Imperceptibly Annoyed." Long ago Hannah dubbed his disposition "Uni-Mood" and that's almost always true. A metaphor: the pirate ride at Knott's Berry Farm and other assorted theme parks, you know the pirate ship that swings back and forth. I am on the pirate ride and he is standing by the gate watching and talking to me. Every time I swing by I give him a high five. Sometimes I invite him to hop on the ride with me. He declines every time. Sometimes I ask him several times in a row. Finally, once in a blue moon I just reach out and drag him onto the ride with me. After a couple of swings he wrenches himself out of my grasp and dives back onto solid ground. Rolling when he hits the concrete of course, to avoid injury. He stands up, adjusts his shirt and continues our conversation as though nothing had happened.

Moving on, because I am starting to have too much fun with the pirate ship metaphor. I read that PMS does not cause emotions but instead enhances the ones I already have, so I can't completely blame it. Anything I might be fretting or otherwise upset about, becomes the end of the world for a week or two every 4-5 weeks. And minor, daily-type victories become life-altering triumphs. (I scrubbed the kitchen floor yesterday--alert the media!) I should probably just stay away from public gatherings and also resist sending e-mails or writing blog posts during this time.

Apparently it is common for PMS to get worse with age and babies. For me it definitely has. And it doesn't matter whether I am dealing with synthetic hormones or just my own real ones. It happens every time either way, although synthetic is a little worse. I hate being part of this stereotype.

So if I am acting a little bit strange, maybe quoting an excessive amount of melancholy poetry, maybe uncomfortably defensive, maybe overly theatrical, I know it's a cop-out, but you might be able to blame it on my hormones. Or you could blame my personality because most of the time it is that too.

Please bless Dad on his way home from work.

Matt was gone for several days waterskiing in Michigan with the Young Men (I guess maybe they were reading scriptures or something too). It's not so odd for him to be gone in the middle of the week but we're used to seeing him on the weekends so the kids and I kept busy...really busy. We missed him but were occupied enough that I didn't go insane without him, although I noticed toward the last couple of nights that I was talking to myself an awful lot. According to his bedtime prayers each night, Theo apparently thought Matt was just taking 4 days to get home from work. "Please bless Dad on his way home from work."

Anyway so the point of this is that I walked into the playroom one day while Matt was gone and found Ida (complete with wizard hat) kissing a picture of her dad. Actually totally unstaged for once. Caught some stealth photos with my phone and then I couldn't keep myself from sweeping her up into a big, tight hug.

Look at that cool humbrella.

If you liked Ida with her s'more you would have loved Theo with the beach umbrella. Theo and Ida are both obsessed with umbrellas, Ida mostly because she likes everything Theo likes. The two of them can spot one from an actual mile away. I'm talking like, a patio umbrella at a strip mall's Pei Wei as we whiz by on the interstate. That is the sort of umbrella-spotting range that we are dealing with. Every day in the car I hear (multiple times):

Theo: "Look at that cool humbrella! I LIKE IT!"
Ida: "Byell-byell-byell! Byell-byell-byell!" (her word for umbrella)

Yes, Theo's idea of heaven would definitely involve sitting under a "humbrella."

S'mores

Imagine how you felt when you tasted your first s'more.

Yep, that's about right!

We were at the beach for a week and I stayed away from the computer. Naturally I came home to 54 e-mails. Also my camera is full of pictures to post so I'm slowly working through everything. I'll be back soon!

Hi

Dang it, no new pictures today.

I feel like I should be blogging but I am just not feeling the blog inspiration.

Phil and Lynnette are coming tomorrow for a whole week. PAAAAAARTYY!

Ummmm...I have been painting. Tips needed--please--I am horrible at it. Really. I wish I had extra money to throw at a professional painter because I hate doing it myself. I am impatient and also use too much paint. One friend gave me a fabulous tip which was to use a medium-sized touch-up roller instead of a regular roller. That has helped a lot because it's lighter and doesn't take as much paint. So, fewer bubbles and drips. Which sounds like a traditional English dish but I checked--that's bubbles and squeak.

I asked Matt for help with something painting-related the other day.

Me: "I'm really bad at this."

Him: "You just have to care."

Me: "I'm really bad at caring."

Him: "Exactly."

Also I got an X-ray on my toe today and the break has almost healed but apparently there is a problem with the tendon, or joint, or something and so I have to take ibuprofen every day and get a cortisone shot in 2 weeks. And keep wearing my cute little Velcro shoe. I am going on 2 months of no running. It is driving me insane. This is all my fault--a direct result of being bad at caring. Being bad at caring brings bubbles and drips and a surgical shoe. I called Matt afterward and he had all kinds of questions about it, none of which I could answer, including whether it was a tendon or joint and how much the X-ray cost. Am I the only one who forgets everything right away? I think I should bring a tape recorder when I go to the doctor.

One pleasant side effect of wearing my shoe is that I have all kinds of conversations with people. Wearing a surgical shoe in public is a tiny bit like being pregnant. Lots of people can identify apparently. And the stranger boundary goes away. I like that aspect. Except when I skip wearing my surgical shoe for just one day (OK actually two days--I refuse to wear it to church) because it is too darn hot outside to wear it, and then my paint buddy at Home Depot (whom I have made friends with because I go there a lot) totally notices. That's embarrassing. Maybe he thinks I am faking.

So that's what I've been doing. Also I have been assembling furniture, unpacking, steering clear of my messy kitchen, completely disregarding my calendar, and occasionally playing with my kids.

What have you been doing?

A visit

Fall is here

Today was cold, rainy, and dreary. Bleeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh


Luckily I just put a bouquet of sunflowers on the table, and Theo and Ida are tucked in bed wearing cozy PJs. Soooo, I think we will all stay warm despite the autumn chill.

A memory

Tonight we went to Marshall's to get a birthday present for Ida and somehow--the curse of Marshall's being similar to the curse of Target--we arrived at the checkstand with 3 "gift drawer" toys, a game for Theo for Christmas, a shirt for Matt, a weird little board book about Halloween, and 2 Halloween costumes for the kids. And at the last minute, a candle. As we were standing in the checkout line and I was trying to keep Ida and Theo away from the gigantic display of candles in their fragile glass holders, I absentmindedly grabbed a candle and took a whiff.

And--what was that heavenly scent?--I checked the label. "Creamy Orange Frosted." I had to buy it. I could have closed my eyes and envisioned 2001...the days that were known in the land roundabout as "Marin #12." My sophomore year at BYU I lived with Hester, Sarah, and Melissa in the Marin Apts. Sarah gave me an "Orange Dreamsicle"-scented candle which smelled exactly like the Creamy Orange Frosted one perched on my desk right now.

I kept Sarah's candle next to my bed and burned it all through the fall and winter semesters of that year, often at night when I stayed up late talking with my roommates, who were my best friends too. That year was so great. A guy in our ward asked us once, "You girls kinda keep to yourselves up in Marin 12, don't you?" Yeah, I guess we did. Apparently we were all the company we needed!


In even bigger news, that winter I started dating Matt. I get so sappy about things like that, but you know your sense of smell is a magnet to memories and I was just sucked back 8 years even while the computerized checkout system at Marshall's was blaring "Next Customer to Checkstand Three, Please" in my ear. I reached up to make sure I didn't have a Meg Ryan-style ducktail at the back of my neck. Nope, 2009 after all.

But while we're talking about it, the Serendipity soundtrack does the same thing to me. I associate that dreamy orange scent not just with roommate shenanigans or first dates with Matt, but also with "Waiting in Vain" and "Northern Sky." I listened to that CD so many times the year of 2001-2002. The movie is silly but I love it anyway, mostly because its music evokes a very happy season of my life...conflicted at times, busy...but cozy and full of love.

Hmm, kind of like my life today! Parallels...parallels...

Clearly I shouldn't blog in the middle of the night because I am getting silly. But Matt is off in the woods somewhere watching the BYU game and I can't help it, I'm still awake because he's not home.

My Marin 12 roomies are scattered now. Hester is in Norway (well, technically she is in ITALY AT THE MOMENT) and Sarah is in Nebraska and Melissa is all over the place.


Now I am listening to the Serendipity soundtrack in all its glory and I have my Creamy Orange Frosted candle burning next to me.

Totally can't get better than this...

(until Matt gets home of course.)

Ida is funny.

This does not fail to crack me up.

Gonna have some fun, show ya how it's done, TGIF.

A week or so ago I went to the movies by myself. Matt called from his busy day at work at around 3 p.m. and forlornly, apologetically informed me of the futility of our much-anticipated date-night plan. Very disappointed (remember how awesome Matt is? love hanging out with that guy), I nevertheless called the babysitter and, instead of canceling, arranged to pick her up early.

She fed the kids and put them to bed while I bought a new outfit (something I have NOT done in a very long time), ate large quantities of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and watched Julie and Julia alone in the top right corner of the theater. Everyone I go to the movies with always wants to sit closer, but I am a total back-row movie-watcher. I am all about sitting in the back row and also NOT missing the previews. Although sadly this time I did miss the previews because I was too busy getting ice cream and hiding it in my purse.

Then I went grocery shopping on the way home since Matt still wasn't back from work. I wandered the aisles slowly and mindlessly like Jerry Seinfeld. "People walk up to the supermarket, they really have a sense of purpose, don't they? They're walking down there, 'I'm gonna get this, I'm gonna get that, I'm gonna pay for it, I'm gonna get out of here and get back to my real life.' You see that same person 10 minutes later, just... 'Why did I come up this aisle, anyway... ? ...This is a different aisle than I've ever been in before. Always noticing something new... Oh, they've got 'em in mesquite flavor now. What is mesquite?' " I filled the seat of the cart not with my children but with my purse and another carton of ice cream.

So I guess what I am saying is, once in a while when your husband works late and you are at your wits' end, get a babysitter and do something fun (only resulting to mundane errands if, like I did, you find yourself with an additional hour to kill at 9 p.m.) while the babysitter does the work. Win-win-win.

Then after you take her home, cozy up to that hard-working man and watch a few episodes of Heroes. (while half-covering your eyes because seriously, who comes up with that scariness.)

My much better half

One of the things that drives me up the wall about Matt is also one of the things I love most about him.

He doesn't put up with any of my crap.

I'm serious. None of it. I'm like, "Ma-att, put up with my cra-ap" (in so many words) and he's like,

"No."

(in so many words.)

P.S. Sorry for the vulgarity, it was really the only word I could think of to describe what I meant.

She waves

Ida's stiff-arm wave is pretty much my favorite thing ever.



I would have provided even more footage for your endless enjoyment, but apparently my memory card was almost full when I started the video.

To the Batmobile!

Not the studio shot I was thinking of. No, this one is much, much better.

It's definitely one of my regrets in life that I didn't keep better track of that Batman T-shirt. It's floating along somewhere in the world, being loved by someone, I hope. Or in someone's rag pile, or in someone's landfill. Maybe someday it will meet my long-lost green Weezer concert shirt and they can share memories of me.

The odds are probably about the same that the Ski Utah, Siamese Cat, and Rag-Doll Bunny shirts are still being worn somewhere.

What I love most about this photo is its timelessness. If I said summer of 1995, Kiddie Kandids, Fashion Place Mall in Murray, Utah, you totally wouldn't believe me, right?