So in honor of Thanksgiving, I will use slinky sentences to show gratitude for my day.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I'm grateful for Slinky Sentences
A few weeks ago I had to teach a lesson in church about "gratitude". I struggled with taking a very common topic and making it unique. Lane was telling me about how in school his teacher is encouraging them to use "slinky sentences". I asked what he meant and he easily explained that it's when you take a simple sentence and s t r e t c h it out using more details. "Like a slinky, mom." So my lesson for church turned into how we can express our gratitude by using "slinky sentences". (It also included me making awesome slinky stairs that actually worked.)
I am grateful for friends, who have become family, that are willing to share their day with us. And are willing to stare at a vat of peanut oil together. It's kind of like watching water boil- It boils faster when you have a buddy watching it with you.
I am grateful for cardboard and the hidden properties it contains to protect a grown manly-man from hot oil. I'm glad my husband was man enough to not need cardboard for his protection.
I am grateful for the golden brown turkey picture on the turkey fryer box. It lets you know when you've done something totally wrong. I don't think it's supposed to look like this. The turkey was really juicy and good despite the way it looks. Next year we'll work on perfecting the technique.
I am grateful for imaginary tree stands. This entertained the kids for hours while the moms sat in a quiet house hoping no one was catching on fire outside.
There is so much to be grateful for both far and near. We missed family and their gatherings but are acutely aware that we are making memories wherever we are. We are thankful for our healthy, energetic kids who go along with our antics. Hope you all had a wonderful day and had cardboard to save you from anything dangerous.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
When I knew everything...
Nine years ago I knew everything about being a parent. (Of course, I wasn't a parent yet). Nine years later, I realize that I know nothing. My oldest, Lane, just turned 9 last week and we celebrated with a fancy meal. We'll call this "crazy table". We used mixing bowls, sippy cups, tablespoons and even baby doll dishes to complete these gorgeous place settings. Draw numbers and that's what you get.
Notice MY place setting: "You are special" plate, wineglass and real silverware. I didn't plan it that way, I promise. I just got lucky. A missionary actually switched me because he wanted a sillier place setting.

This whole month he's been learning about Native Americans and doing projects and reports. They finished off the week with the Tribal Fair where the parents came to learn from our little Indians and see them dance. Lane wanted a mohawk for the special day. I was going to gel it because it looked a little "bed-heady" but he quickly reminded me that Indians didn't have gel to use. My reply, "They didn't have toothpaste either but that doesn't mean you're not going to brush your teeth". Needless to say, I let him slide on the gel.


How do you make a 9 yr. old. happy? Invite 4 missionaries over for dinner and let them act like 9 year olds also. The missionaries have since asked me when Paige will have her b-day dinner.
How else do we celebrate our 9 year old? We initiate him into the Mohawk tribe.
He is such an awesome Indian. I have to mention that he did shave off the mohawk Saturday night because he told us it wouldn't be appropriate for church. I'm so proud of my little man. He is always so willing to help and he understands that I'm not perfect but he still thinks I'm pretty close.
For Lane's big day we also let him kill his first big buck with a super-duty-cool-rifle-thingy-majig. Of course it was supervised within the comforts of our own home and was a simulation using a Wii zapper.

This was the one and only thing he wanted. I never thought that I'd have a boy who'd enjoy this outdoor stuff so much and wear camo doing it. Well, we've survived 9 years together lets hope I don't ruin him before he turns 10. We love you, Lane.
When does a cracker become a cookie?
I made an amazing discovery today in the grocery store. I found these:

They are delicious and I felt the need to ration them out to my kids so that I'd have some leftover for my late night snacking. I only have to remember that when my kids ask for crackers as a snack I must remember if these are in the house. And if so, these crackers don't count as a healthy snack. This just proves that anything fried or covered in chocolate are better than the original. My only caution is that you don't use these for your holiday cheese balls.
p.s. I just laughed out loud at the word "cheese balls". It must be late if I'm feeling like an 8 yr. old giggling in the back of the classroom.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Man's Worst Enemy
You may wonder what this could possibly be. It can bring a (relatively) sane man to anger, swearing and possibly throwing something that is much more valuable than the "worst enemy". It will stump even the smartest of men. When man's wife brings it home she anticipates the groan followed with the refusal to help. Man's children will quietly ask "What's wrong with dad?".
I know this is no surprise but it is the dreaded plastic screw anchor. Any real man will say that they are pointless and don't work, but yet they come in all shapes and sizes and are included with most hanging things. I've managed to spend my morning putting up shelves and magazine racks using the "worst enemy" and no swearing or throwing ensued. (Just don't tell my landlords. They hate holes in the walls. The way I figure it is that 3 to 4 years of rent qualifies me for at least 50 holes.)

p.s. Nobody was hurt in the using of these plastics screw anchors. Well, maybe his pride.
p.s.s. I love you babe for your willingness to help. I really do.
Monday, November 2, 2009
No animals were harmed...
in the making of this picture.
Well, hope everyone had a spooktacular weekend. I'm off to ease the heavy burden of the candy bag.
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