Our year in review

This year...

Dec. 13 2008

We welcomed Harrison Grant Roane

to our family.

We welcomed Harrison?

We enjoyed our second anual "Fresh from the sewer"

birthday cake,

We escaped certain doom.

We did?

and basked in the glory of our divine nature.

We learned new things...

and improved on the old things,

(or techniques.)

We celebrated in eachother's little victories

(Brooke performes on stage as Hannah Montana)

And shared eachother's little burdons.

There were times when things got a little scary

but...

 by sticking together,

and once in awhile, letting it all hang out...

We eventually were victorious!

And we can honestly say...

that we're better for it.

Life is nothing but a big piece of cake...

 

Dig in!

Have a fabulous New Year!

Santa's not-so-merry Christmas

  Santa totally screwed us this year! Not only did he forget where he hid a couple of Ashton's presents, but he threw the girls' necklaces away with the empty shopping bags, (I had to dig them out of the trash) and left Matthew with a stomache bug, which left Nate and myself cleaning Christmas puke out of the carpet and bed sheets. I think Santa needs to consider a retirement or something because that magical man is really losing his touch!

 Of course not all of Christmas was a total bust. Santa did remember to leave me a box of my favorite chocolates from Sees and a shopping gift card to my favorite store, the Buckle. And Ashton did get her Zhu Zhu pet. But he really should have left a note or something explaining that he couldn't get his hands on any of the Zhu Zhu accessories and the elves couldn't even make enough to supply the demand this year, but that Mommy has direct orders to take Ashton shopping for the accessories as soon as stores have them again.

 Once Matthew stopped vomiting some color once again returning to his cheeks, he really enjoyed what Santa brought for him too. With four new costumes we probably won't see Matthew dressed as himself for quite a while. Brooke, our hardest to please seemed surprisingly pleased with all her loot. Even baby Harrison seemed to enjoy his presents especially his crocodile xylophone.

  The day ended well with a delicious ham dinner at Nate's parents' house and a good old fashioned game of scattergories. Christmas was saved after all, even after Santa played a grinch on us!

Adventures in last minute christmas shopping

         I got Ashton her damned zhu zhu pet after spending the wee hours of the morning in line at Walmart, sandwiched between my mother and the most annoying man in the world. This guy, who's name I never bothered to get, had been the one solitary customer in the zhu zhu line when my mother and I stumbled in at 4:30 am. He had been there, drinking his redbulls, since mid-night. And he was very excited to see real live people for the first time all night.

       After getting lawn chairs out of the sporting goods section for my mother and myself, (really, very thoughtful), he proceeded to tell us both about his love of hunting and camping. He was very disappointed that I wasn't really a camper. He told us for whom he was hoping to get a zhu zhu pet. He told us that his power drinks taste like melted skittles, that he only buys his clothes at wal-mart, what bars he and his friends like to hang out at and a miriaid of stories that may or may not have been true. (I had never met anyone who drove his subaru through a pond ).

     My mom and I tried to be polite and even friendly at first, but when he turned his chair toward mine in order to get closer to our conversations, we were thoroughly annoyed. This presumptuous asshole even nudged my knee with his foot at one point during the wait in order to get my complete attention! One last ditch attempt at not being lonely for Christmas I guess, but a total waste of energy nonetheless.

    When the zhu zhu pets were finally put out, I couldn't be more happy to make my selection and get the heck out of there. Unfortunately, getting rid of my new friend was not so easy. This, the most annoying person in the world, followed my mother and I through the store to the cash registers asking our opinions on other gift ideas.

   Yeah, Merry Christmas now please, go away, douch!

ZHU ZHU Zoo-mania!

Every year there's that one "special toy" that every kid just has to have and every year that one special toy is the one you can't find any where! I swear the stores know what the big hot item is and they purposefully under-order these items just to create a holiday craze! I mean, seriously does someone have to die in the pursuit of a zhu zhu before manufacturers and stores stop creating this insanity?

Anyway, Zhu Zhu pets are the crazy toy item for this year. And I thought Iwas off the hook (since no child of mine had mentioned it).That was until  yesterday when Ashton announced that she wanted one of these little electronic hamsters for christmas and if she didn't get one she'd know just how unloved she was! This is a technique kids have been using on parents since the dawn of time called parental manipulation. This technique has endured for centuries and I'm no stranger to it since I used it shamelessly on my parents when I was a child, and I usually don't give in to this kind of sabatoge but Ashton is the one child I still have to get that one last gift for and she's the difficult one to buy for this year so any clue as to what she wants is going to be heeded. So in short: I'll be standing in line at Walmart in the middle of the night tonight in a pathetic attempt to get Ashy that coveted zhu zhu!

She now owes me big!

A funny little side note on the Zhu Zhu craze: Conan O'brien commented on these little hamsters on his show a few nights ago. He said that You-Tube has an instructional video on how to make your own Zhu Zhu pet with faux fur and a remote control car. Then he said, "Yes this is the perfect way to tell your child, 'mommy and daddy don't really love you.'"
I thought that was quite humorous myself.

I'll have to post an update on the zhu zhu situation. Feel free to leave any helpful tips for me in my comment box.

Twilight every day

Brilliant idea # 2009!
So the other day I dragged Nate to see New Moon with me. (Nate actually liked it, but don't tell him I said so.) After the movie however, I came up with the greatest idea that will be sure to put some spice in anyone's otherwise ordinary life.
What if we all incorporated some Twilight-type vocabulary as well as behaviors into our every day lives? Example: When your husband is leaving for work instead of just saying ' bye have a nice day, I love you' like we normally would, give him a very long passionate kiss like it may be the last time he's ever seen alive and say, "Be careful out there. The only thing I'm scared of is losing you!"
Of course you may want to give him a heads up on your new choice in words before hand just so you don't freak him out.
Then, he can reply with something like, "I've got to go. I've got a vampire to kill."
Life is just so much more exciting when its dramatic.
I actually gave this idea a go the morning after seeing New Moon. I told Nate the idea before hand as suggested so he didn't comit me to the mental institution on the spot. Then, as I was kissing him good bye, I gazed up into his eyes with my best attempt at a dreamy expression and said "You can't leave me, I can't bear life without you."
To that my husband shook his head, chuckled and said, "okay, I've gotta go, you're really weird."
Not the response he was supposed to give.

Last evening as my children and I sat down to a meal of pork chops and mashed potatoes, (yeah I actually cooked, you're welcome family) Ashton decides to make this comment,
"Hey mom, have you ever noticed how skinny the Shadow Valley moms are?"
I'm suddenly feeling guilty about the spoonful of mashed potatoes I just shoved in my mouth. "Yeah, I have Ashton, why do you ask?"
"Oh, I don't know. This one kid's mom is so skinny she looks like a teenager!"
Ok. You can shut up now.
"I bet they never eat any sugar or anything."
I bet they never eat anything but boiled water. "What's the point of this Ash? Are you trying to say I'm not skinny?"
"Well...your butt isn't!"
I just lost my appetite completely.
"Maybe you should buy a tred mill or something."


Cursed gravy.

First Snow fall of the Year

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Matthew rolls in the powder

Ashton makes a perfect angel

Brooke is bundled like a marshmallow

and poor Harrison just wishes he could go out and play too

Rudolph the re-nosed reindeer: puts the 'fun' in dysfunctional

I have a very love-hate relationship with the old cartoon Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer . Of course, as a child I anticipated the TV special every Christmas, but even then something about the animation and story kind of creeped me out. I watched it more out of duty to the seasonal tradition, I think, rather than any real admiration of the cartoon itself.

"Hey its Christmas time...and there's a big 'Special Presentation' notice on the TV screen...and that disembodied male voice excitedly announcing 'Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer'. We have to watch this!"

So there I sat mesmerized in front of the screen as the claymation figures reinacted the story I never liked. I guess its the car wreck affect. You don't really want to see what's going on but you can't take your eyes off it anyhow.

However, I do have a little more appreciation for  Rudolph  now that I am older and have children of my own who seem to, for whatever reason, really like watching it. As in the case of yesterday afternoon when the three of them decided to take a much-needed break from driving me nuts to sit mesmerized by the new and improved DVD version. I was appreciative of the creepy little characters then, but here are a few of my reasons that Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer gives me the heeby-jeebies.

1. Every character seems to have an issue with their eyes that causes them to roll around excessively.(especially the abomindable snowman) Its like they're all posessed by weird cartoon deamons and its just really creepy.

2. Along with a red nose, Rudolph seems to also have a deviated septum or something of the sort because his voice is all nasaly.

3. Rudolph's father also irritates me. He's the classic over-bearing pushy type. I'm aware that in the end he sort of makes it up to Rudolph but not enough penence was done in my opinion. If this were real poor Rudolph would need years of extensive therapy to overcome his issues of feeling like he could never measure up to his father's expectations.

4. Santa isn't fat and Mrs. Clause is a nag! "Eat, Santa, Eat. Whoever heard of a skinny Santa!" She cries as she shoves cookies in his face. Maybe Santa doesn't want to be fat, maybe he wants to set an example of a more healthy and fit Santa Clause. But Mrs. Clause seems to want to sabatoge all of these efforts. Then we wonder why childhood obesity is an epidemic in this country.

5. The elf is ostrasized for wanting to be a dentist. I mean, come on, couldn't they think of something a little more likely. Personally I'd be descriminating against a weird little man who wanted to look in everyone's mouth too. What weirdo dreams of being a dentist unless he has some kind of teeth fetish and then thats really creepy especially in a kids' cartoon.

6. The doll. The doll that Rudolph and the creepy mouth-fetish dentist elf meet in the land of misfit toys really has nothing wrong with her to make her a misfit, at least not at first glance. But then soon you realize that this doll has strange psychological problems. But how would any human know that? The doll doesn't talk to humans. Anyway, besides that its just weird to have a doll with psychological issues in a kids' show. I mean should we really be burdeoning children with the realities of self-doubt and depression? They'll be forced into learning about that one soon enough.

7 The final complaint I have against Rudolph is when the characters defeat the abomindable snowman by hitting him in the nuts! What's worse is you can't even see any "nuts" on the monster. Then, he rolls his eyes all wild-like and falls over. I mean thats just teaching kids to take a cheap-shot!

So, to sum it all up, I really don't like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. But, will I put up with afore-mentioned creepiness in order to distract my children from bugging the hell out of each other on cold winter afternoons? You betcha!

Mothers against Christmas Trees!

So like every good little housewife I put my Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving. Since then I've decided that I absolutely hate Christmas trees. If I die and meet the man who first came up with the idea to put a decorated pine tree up in your living room for a month and a half (or in the case of my mother-in-law, five months) ,I think I'll talk God into letting him get reincarnated to the body of a pine cone or something so I can kill him. Now before you all think I'm a terrible terrible synic let me assure you that I have some very valid reason for hating the Christmas tree, so hear me out.

1) I spent a very, very long time decorating this fake tree I have up in my living room, and a substantial amount of money too, I might add. I got the finest garland and red-and-white glitter balls Target had to offer. lol. Then spent a dizzying two hours wrapping it around and around the tree. Before this I had to get the tree out of the box and "fluff" it. "Fluffing" the branches is a teidious job. Each branch must be properly stretched and pointed in the right direction or you'll inevitably end up with a gaping hole.

2) I carefully unwrap the nice Hallmark ornaments my mother-in-law gives to all the kids every year and place them on branches evenly spaced as to not make them look too crowded. This year I also decided to wrap giant ribbon around my tree, just to add that extra little spice.

3) fifeteen minutes after finishing the final touches to my almost perfect tree, I walk back into the living room to find half the glitter balls on the floor, and some of them were missing the paint as my eleven-month old baby, Harrison decided to eat them.

4) After talking to some trusted family members Nate and I decide that the paint is probably non-toxic since they were bought last year.

5) We have to then re-decorate the tree, leaving no decorations at the very bottom of it in order to prevent Harrison from eating any more of them. Now my once-almost-perfect Christmas tree looks like its not wearing any pants.

6) Today, I find that my four-year-old boy has been playing with the little ceramic ornaments as if they were action figures. Who can blame him really, our ornaments are in the likeness of Charlie Brown and Frosty the Snowman. It's probably near impossible temptation for a four-year-old. The ornament of his obsession was a Shrek reading a christmas book to his little shrek babies. In short, Shrek's little babies no longer have their cute little ogre ears.

7) When my husband finds out what Matthew has done theres going to be hell to pay. And if my mother-in-law ever found out, which she probably will since my kids have big mouths, she'll be terribly hurt. She'll most likely think that its another example of how I never appreciate anything thus I don't take proper care of them. What am I supposed to do? Build a plexiglass box around the stupid tree? Christmas trees should be sold with such boxes.

Next year I'm going to convert to Judism. A Manora is much easier to deal with!

My Ashie is 9!
Nov. 28 2009
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHIE!

Our Thanksgiving

We had a perfectly adequate Thanksgiving, thank you.

I suppose I'm a boring synic, but I've never really cared for Thanksgiving! Isn't that ungrateful of me? I've always much preferred the day after Thankgiving day; left over turkey and yams enjoyed in front of the television rather than in front of family.

And since I've been married Thanksgiving usually comes with other stressors like spending it with my husband's family. Don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws, and their food is always very good, I just always somehow find a way to offend at least one of them every time I'm in their company! I blame it on my upbringing. I've always been a highly opinionated girl and my mother encouraged this attribute. "Its good to have a strong mind." She'd say. And I agree with that, however tact would have been a nice lesson to add to that!

This year, however I managed to get through the entire dinner, pie and even the hours of conversation after without someone hating me (or at least not that I know of) by the end of the night. I think I deserve a reward or something...perhaps...SEES CHOCOLATES! I think that's fair.

John Mayer's Battle

John Mayer's new album, Battle Studies, hit stores late last week and of course Nate wasted no time in getting us a copy. And I've wasted no time in listening to the thing obsessively for the last five days while driving the kids around in my oh-so-stylish mini-van! Wow that was a very long run on sentence. Anyhow, I thought I'd critique John's Battle on my blog for all those of you who may think about checking it out and wonder if its worth your time. I'll warn you right now, that yes I'm a very big Mayer fan, as is my husband so my critisism may be a little partial.

John Mayer continues to climb higher and higher, improving his voice and, (as impossible as it may seem) his guitar skills as well! I was impressed by  Room for Squares, but was blown away by Continuum. But I have to admit, I expected a little more...umph from his latest one, especially with the name sounding so ready-to-fight. And his jack-ass image in the media to boot. However, John proves in his Battle Studies album that his softer side always wins out-at least musically. Battle Studies is classic John, soft music, some outstanding guitar instrumentals, a little flare of blues and his sweet sweet croon. I admit that on first listen, I was a little disappointed, I guess I am always expecting him to surprise me and break into something really different. Plus I'm very partial to his more jazzy, blues sound- ie- the John Mayer trio. That being said, after giving the album a few complete listens I actually really love it! From the first "Heart-break" to the "perfectly lonely" middle where things liven up a bit, to the make-up-your-mind-already ending with "Friends, lovers, or Nothing", it appears John's album was a chronical of his very on again off again years with starlett, Jennifer Aniston. That is just my opinion, but one thing is for sure weather its about Jen, or not, its definately full of John's heart and soul and personal feeling and that is exactly what makes John Mayer's Battle so worth it!

Instruction manuel for parents of adult children; A follow-up

Last week I posted a blog about the amount of involvement that is appropriate for a parent and her adult child. This was of course a humorous narrative of my own experience with my mother thinly veiled behind hypothetical characterizations. It was fun, and it was theraputic but i did have one critic, my own brother aka Stark effects.

TO MY ONE CRITIC

I understand that you don't at all understand my relationship with my mother. I would like to emphasize the "my" here to illustrate to you that I actually do have a different mother than you. I am aware that she looks the same and has the same haircut (in fact the same as it was when you were just a little baby), however the dynamics of a relationship between a mother and her male children and the dynamics of a relationship between a mother and her female children are completely different. And in this case much more dysfunctional.

Also I don't really agree with your implication that I am manipulative or that I am some kind of "trickster". There is no real point in even trying to out-manipulate a master-manipulater and that is precisely why I don't try. You have been misinformed if you think otherwise.

It also seems, from your comments, that you believe me to be a narccisist. Because I'm attempting to have a life and identity of my own? Sorry you feel that way.

In a nut shell, you don't know me.
But thanks for playing.

Instructions for parenting the adult child

Parenting is a life-long comitment. You may not like this fact, but it is still a fact. The tricky thing is that the parent-child dynamic changes over the course of one's life and it is sometimes hard for some parents to define the appropriate boundries for the relationship as their child grows to an adult It is for this reason that I have made a list of do's and don'ts for the parent of an adult child. Please feel free to post any comments or questions.

Do:

give advice when asked

Don't:

give unwelcome advice in the form of critisism at every opportunity

Do:

help out when it is possible or convenient

Don't:

place guilt trips on your child for asking for your help

Do:

call once a week to check in and make sure everything is well with your child

Don't:

call every day and leave angry messages about your child never calling you, then if you don't get a return call within the hour, make a surprise visit to your child's house and demand to know why he/she is not answering his calls.

Do:

Support your child's decisions and encourage her.

Don't:

drag up the poor decisions she's made in the past to prove to her that she is incapable of making good decisions at all.

Do:

Share appropriate information about your health and well being

Don't:

Share information about your sex life with your child! especially the details. Your child does not ever, ever want to know about your level of sexual satisfaction, the last time you had sex, or that her father has erectile dysfunction!

Do:

be understanding about the difficulties involved with being a young adult in this generation

Don't:

Whine about how your parents never babysat for you so you could go out with your spouse, so why should you babysit for your children's children. This does nothing but make you sound like a total ass hole!

Do:

arrange for some one-on-one time to spend with your adult child. Take him out for lunch or take your daughter for a shopping trip together

Don't:

Give gifts and favors in order to assert control over your child's life. Never assume that your child owes you anything but her company in turn for yours. And never try to manipulate your adult child this will inevitably back-fire on you. Don't assume your child is too dumb to know what you're doing!

Please post any questions or comments and I will do my best to answer them.

STRESSED To the MAX!

When I look around my new home all I see are unfinished projects, ugly walls, and generally just TONS of work to do! Don't get me wrong, its not that I mind work. I'm not lazy by any means, (and i don't say that to brag, I simply just can't sit still for more than sixty seconds) its just that too many other things, and other people are in my way! I could work all day painting my walls and looking for people to tear down ceiling tiles. There's just a few things that are getting in my way.

1.Children. If I could just send my kids to foster care for a few weeks  then I could get all this done. But it seems you can't ask authorities to take your children, you have to do something to deserve for them to be taken out of your custody.

2. Work. Nate still seems to want to go to work every day, and my part-time job expects me to come in on my scheduled nights as well. This is all very annoying to me. I think buying a house should be treated similar to a death in the family; several weeks of paid time off.

3. Sleep. Being mortal, I still need at least five or six hours of sleep at night. This defect of mine, being mortal, is really putting a damper on how quickly my house gets beautified. Where is that damned Edward when you need him anyway!

4. Money. Or the lack there of to be more accurate. If I were a millionare, I would have paid qualified contracters twice what they're worth in order to get all of this work done. Then again, if I were a millionare I'd probably have bought a bigger, nicer, house and probably a beautifully finished and updated house. And it  would probably be in some place warmer, like California, or some place more exotic, like France!

Okay, so reality is in. So I guess we take this slow and live with less than attractive walls and hideous old lady carpet for a few months while we work steadily between diaper changes and feedings. We'll have to just hope to find friends and family that can spare a Saturday to help us put up drywall in exchange for... chocolate chip cookies. Maybe someone we know will need comunity service hours, but I doubt it. Anyway, one day our house will be cool. One day, far, far away from now I'll look around and see my house, the house we worked so hard on to make the way we want it. Then one day, we'll outgrow our home or we'll have to move to California so Nate can work at Disney land or something and we'll sell our beautiful home that's done just the way we wanted it done. One day, a new family will buy our home and the wife will look around at the walls and carpet while her husband is at work and she will think, "dang, I've really got to something about this house! This carpet is hideous and what were they thinking when they painted these walls this color? I've got so much work to do! I'm stressed to the max!"

Where the wild things are

Wednesday evening Ashton and I were the wild things. Throwing caution to the wind, and the credit card in my purse, we ran away from home and ended up at...the mall.

After a short trip to the "Halloween Bootique" where we joked about mommy dressing as "Pocca-hottie" for trick-or-treating and of course a stop off at See's candies for a sample chocolate we decided to get really crazy and see a movie. Our movie fit our mood for the evening; Where  the wild things are!

This movie has been a little controversial amongst my friends and neighbors, so I was a little reluctant to see it, but then curiosity got the better of me and I am glad it did! I loved it! The cinematography was artistic and nicely done. Acting was phenomenal. Story line magnificent.

Unless you've lived under ground in a bomb shelter for the last four decades you're probably familiar with the classic children's book written by Maurice Sendak. However, unlike the children's book the movie delves deep into the troubled mind of the main character, Max. Max is a young boy of probably nine or ten years old, his parents are divorced, mother works long hours, and his only friend, (who is his older sister), is beginning to spend more and more time away from home with her friends. Max is lonely, he's angry, he's confused and he's sad and it is for this reason that he's acting out in a less than favorable way. After one particular episode of anger Max runs away to a park, and even further in his mind to where the wild things are. In his own imaginary world Max is aquainted with large beasts, each one remarkably resembling one of young Max's own "inner deamons".

I highly recommend "Where the wild things are" for adults and children over eight. This movie explores real emotions in an imaginitive way-kind of like a childs mind, stays true to the integrity of the Newberry medal award winning children's book, and is beautifully crafted.  "Wild things" reminds adults that children also have very real and even dark feelings during times of distress and that a little bit of patience and understanding can go a long way when helping a young child confront and deal with these difficult emotions.

This is a must see!

A Woman's Place?

The other night I had a very interesting conversation with a certain person whos identity will remain anonymous. This "discussion" turned a little ugly as most disagreements with me do. This person had the contention that women have no different instincts than men when it comes to raising children and nurturing them. I, having chose to devote my life to nurturing my children, of course disagree. I'll tell you all my point of view and I look forward to some responses. This could be a very interesting discussion topic.

I happen to feel that women are endowed with certain instincts and qualities that are different from men. Women tend to be naturally more senstive and emotional which comes in handy when you have to deal with emotions from your little people everyday. Being sensitive and emotional seems to be a secondary quality for men. Men are more logic based which is great for getting things done, but not so good when a child requires that the world stop for him, and all chores wait while a parent reads him his favorite book. Don't get me all wrong here, I think men play a very important role in the family as well. As dad's their instincts are to provide and protect first and nurture second. Women are almost the exact opposite, we nurture and protect first and when tough times arise we hang up the apron and get to work to provide for our families as well.

I just feel that women should be everything that is soft, warm and lovely. It takes the yin and the yang to balance. All of this talk of equality amongst men and women is fine but lets not forget who we are and the differences we have. And lets not be ashamed of it, lets celebrate it! I am a woman. I am soft, I am nurturing,I am sensitive, I like to make my home cozy and comfortable for my family. I like to bake cookies when my child had a bad day, I like to build towers from blocks and give hugs and kisses to my children freely. I have very different instincts and abilities than a man. I am a woman and that warmth is exactly what this cold world could use a little more of!

There is nothing I find more delicious than the sweet taste of revenge. Even chocolate takes a back seat when I get that rare opportunity to slice a piece of humble pie and hand feed it to a deserving individual. And no revenge is better than husband revenge!

Any woman who has given birth knows that somewhere between labor and delivery theres this little part of you that forms a grudge toward the man who did this thing to you. And until your thirst for revenge has been satisfied, that little grudge you hold will only get bigger and more a part of every interaction you have with your husband from there on out. Most women find ways to get their revenge in small doses. A simple, "not tonight dear, I'm tired," will go a long way toward major satisfaction. I like to make my husband take care of the dirty jobs, like changing diapers or unclogging a toilet. Recently, I have found the greatest revenge is leaving the husband alone with all the children and watching from afar as he struggles to keep his head above water.

When it comes to the care taking of children, generally speaking, men are no good. There are those rare exceptions, but even then if you talk to that man's wife you'll discover that he's overlooked a few of the details. Now, my husband, while being a great father and supportive husband, doesn't do so well with the constant demands of children. Sundays are Nate's hardest day.

Sundays I work a twelve hour shift at the clinic. Nate stays home with the children for that entire time and I have to admit,that from what I hear has happened,while I was away can be very revenge-satisfying.

Last week, when I returned home after my nice long shift, I found Nate to be in complete disaray. Apparently, at one point during the day he decided to take a fifteen minute break from the children and retreat to our bedroom to play a little PS2. Assuming he was allowed breaks in this job was his first mistake. His second mistake would be leaving the crawling- age baby in the care of the eight-year-old sister. The third, biggest and most crucial mistake was assuming the before mentioned baby was incapable of removing his own diaper whenever the mood struck. Needless to say, fifteen minutes later Nate returned from his little break to find three children rolling with laughter as their baby brother roamed happily through the living room buck naked, leaving a trail of poopies in his wake.

This isn't all fun and easy for me either however. I love my husband. I hate to see him struggle so with the smallest details of parenting. But we all have to learn sometime. But I'm merciful. from time to time I throw him a little rope. I send him and the kids to my mother's house for sunday dinner so that the children get something besides pizza and candy that evening. I've given him some helpful tips to keep the children from getting into bordom-induced mischief.

All in all I'd say he's done quite well. Sure the girls' hair is full of knots and tangles come monday morning, my baby's wearing backwards clothing, and most every child has snot all over their face, but those are just unimportant details. I've also discovered that Matthew's had a great wrestling match with dad and the girls have done their reading. Most of all, the children get to have one whole day of their dad's undivided attention, his love. And that is worth all the detangler in the store.

Plus, I'm now full to the brim with sweet, sweet revenge gratification.

My son the frog

My beautiful son, my prince, Matthew is a frog. Yep thats right. He's a frog. Matthew has been a frog for about five days now and this is all Evonne's fault!

Evonne, who works with my husband at Willey's sent the most adorable frog costume home for Matthew. I never dreamed it would be such a hit. He's literally only shed his froggy skin a couple of times in order to take a bath. I washed it once after a trip to the icecream parlor resulted in a chocolate covered frog. Even then, the boy whined and cried the entire wash cycle. I think he pulled it out of the dryer a little early too, so he was probably slightly damp inside that frog for a while.

Its cute, but a little alarming when a giant frog comes to wake you in the morning. Sliding up next to you in bed and flopping his little froggy limbs over your back.

Matthew is a singing frog too. He imagines he's the frog from Shrek the third singing, as the little froggys in that show do, "Live and let die."

Matthew is always some character. Spider man, bat man, peter pan, iron man, super man, power ranger, teenage mutant ninja turtle, a regular ninja, or a knight in shining armor. Sometimes he even throws on his old chicken costume from a couple of years ago. Its much too small, but he doesn't mind.

If he doesn't own a the costume, as with iron man and peter pan, it doesn't matter, he just makes it himself. Matthew's version of a peter pan costume consists of his underwear, his sister's sparkly purple slippers, a vest, and a green and blue beanie. Iron man is his knight and shining armor helmet, snow boots and underwear. My little Matt lost his spider man mask some time ago and has since been wearing a pair of undies on his head to serve as a mask.

What am I doing about this? Well I did wrestle him out of it on Saturday, but only because I didn't think his coach would appreciate a frog playing in the soccer game. But as soon as we were home, Matthew turned back into a frog and has been one ever since. I don't discourage it. I just play along. I go to the grocery store with my frog, the library, for walks, you name it. I've heard its healthy, this imaginative thinking. Perhaps if I allow my son to be a frog now he'll grow into a very creative, and successful prince later.

Free the Bunnies!

We used to take our rabbit for walks. I bought an adorable little harness that was special made just for rabbits. It looked more like a little mesh vest and was absolutely precious on our little grey bunny. At first I was going to buy a pink and brown vest because I thought it was cute but Brooke insisted we get the blue and brown one because "Dusty" is a boy and might feel dumb wearing pink. We also bought a very expensive leash with a bungy feature so that if Dusty decided to hop he wouldne't be hindered. We were ready. We loaded our new finds into the van and drove home to present them to the rabbit.

It took me and the girls a good forty-five minutes to get the harness securely fastened onto the rabbit without securing half his fur with it. Then we were off. We made it to the front yard before Dusty made a mad dash for the nearest bush, pulling as hard as he could on the bungy leash. It reminded me of a cartoon rabbit kicking up dust behind him, but going absolutely nowhere. We forced him to get back on track and started down the sidewalk again. The next time I looked back Brooke was dragging the poor thing like a stuffed toy. His bum was firmly planted, large back paws stretched out in front, it was a sight to behold.

We ended up carrying him down the street. When we came to our neighbors yard we let him go explore. He loves their pine tree. Then I got another brilliant idea. I thought maybe our bunny would like to have a play date with the neighbor's bunny. I had the girls knock on the Coate's door and ask if "Super Bon Bon" could come out and play.

Super Bon Bon is a giant white rabbit, bigger than some small dogs, with eerie red eyes. But he's the most gentle and sweetest of creatures. At easter time they had him hop down the street and "lay" candy-filled eggs on the sidewalks for the neighborhood kids.

The Coate's oldest daughter hauled the rabbit up from the basement and plopped him down next to ours. We figured they would play well, because as far as we all knew both of them were boys and Bon Bon was neutered. It wasn't the best of play dates. Dusty cautiously inched toward the huge rabbit, sniffing at its twitching nose. Then recognition set in, he realized this was one of his own kind. Before we knew it our little rabbit was mounted on the giant buck, humping with all his might. We pulled him off and within seconds he had launched himself back onto him, this time getting the wrong end of poor Super Bon Bon, so that he was now vigourously humping his face! Super Bon Bon struggled to free himself, but Dusty held fast, sinking his teeth into the other rabbit, White fur was flying in all directions."I'm sorry!" I shreiked, "I had no idea our rabbit was gay!"

Dusty was banned from any future play dates with Super Bon Bon. And his vest-harness is now non-existant since we left it on him when we returned him to his hutch and he ate it. Because I'm a softy and can't stand seeing an animal caged up for twenty-four hours a day, I got into the habit of letting him run rogue in our back yard.

For the first couple times I did it, he stayed in the big blue spruce we have out back. Then the next time, we didn't check on him for a while and he had run to the neighbors yard, where he was fed carrots by the children. Each time we had to catch him, he got a little bit trickier, until the last time we let him go we couldn't even find him for three days and when we finally did round him up it took three people and a fishing net before he was safely back in his hutch.

The last expedition Dusty went out on was, I thought, his last. We saw no sign of him at all for five days. When he was let out he ran as fast as he could toward the neighboring trees, then disappeared. I washed my hands of him. Then, after being wild and free for five whole days, a family who lives a couple of blocks up came to our door with a slightly dishevled grey rabbit tucked under his arm.

Brooke has laid down the law. I am not under any circumstance to let Dusty run free
agian. But so, he doesn't get too restless, she will start taking him for daily walks!

continuing the fall down the rabbit hole (my crazy brother Kirt)

Without my crazy brother's letters coming in the mail every couple of weeks my life was far less interesting. I went back to my daily routine;fixing meals, wiping bums and cleaning peanut butter finger-paint off the kitchen table. It felt good to be free from the mega drama and back to focusing on my family. Then, I got another call from my mother.

"I got a visit from Kirt's in-laws today." She announced. "Kirt packed up his family and moved. No body knows where. I guess he told his in-laws that they'd never see their grandson again and took off." Her words and tone draw me in like a moth going toward the flame.

"Well I guess you had to know that was coming. It was obvious from his first novel-sized letter he'd gone completely nuts and mental illness doesn't usually get better when left untreated. He's probably finally found a cult that would accept him and ran off to buy some 'Nikes' and join." My mother stifles a laugh, then scolds me unconvincingly. I don't know what answers she was looking for with me. I didn't know where Kirt ran off to anymore than the next person. Kirt's in-laws seemed to know the most, and that wasn't much, they just kept talking about how terrified they were that my brother was going to shoot up their house or something.

Weeks past and my mother was absolutely beside herself not knowing where crazy Kirt was. I tried to point out that since he had already been living in a different state and had vowed to never see any of us in person again that things weren't really any different. But of course, being the anxiety-ridden drama queen that she is she just couldn't handle not knowing his exact location.

Then one day my mother received an interesting phone-call. A routine back-ground check traced my brother back to my parents. Instead of getting information on Kirt's character however, the poor investigator got a frantic mother begging for information, any information. Unable to stand my mother's plea, the lady divulged my brother's new address in Oregon. My mother saw this as an answer to her prayer and a second chance.

She called me right after getting off the phone with the investigator. She was ranting about her plans to contact Kirt in a "non-threatening" manner. As if there is anything thats considered non-threatening to a sckitzo. A person that crazy would be suspicious over a pony and bunny card. Here we go again. I thought.

Kirt was absolutely furious he'd been found. He called my mother immediately after receiving her card, demanding to know how she'd found him. He figured he'd covered every track. He'd studied diligently, his TV crime dramas, he left no internet trail. He'd done everything except change his name, all so the evil Mormons couldn't track them down and kill them. And yet, his sixty-something year-old mother who doesn't even know how to run her DVD player had found him within a matter of weeks. How humiliating. Well, in short my mother assured him she would not give out her information and she would not contact him again.

A few short months later, my father was in the hospital with stomach cancer. My mother figured Kirt should know...or rather she wanted him to know. that's when she received the six-page single-spaced letter.

Kirt was sure that she'd made up my father's illness in order to get him to come home and get him back under her control. Then he sends his advice to my father just in case he really was sick, then he lashes out at my mother again for making this crap up. After that, he talks of his wife's illnesses, which are never diagnosed or even described in any way that makes sense. He lets us all know that when he made the decision to disappear he made his peace with the fact that he'd never even know when someone in the family passed away. He justifies his leaving and not returning under any circumstance because he was faced with death and he chose to protect his family. The letter goes on to chastise my mother for knowing that they were sick and in danger and not even "giving a damn about it". He comes up with some crazy story about Mormons drowning a lady on his mission because she didn't pay a debt. He accuses me of stalking him and says that if he sees anyone that even remotly looks like me near his house he'll call the police. Then he closes the letter with some nice blasphemy, wishes my mother and me to burn in hell for our terrible crimes against him, and says goodbye. For good. This time. And promises to disappear better.

In all honesty, I wish there was something we could do to get my brother some professional help. Unfortunately unless he breaks the law, I think there's nothing that can be done. We laugh about it because it releases the emotion without drowning us in the sorrow. I pray that some day, Kirt and his family, especially his young son get the help they need.

My Crazy Brother Kirt

Understanding that my brother is insane doesn't make him any less of an asshole in my opinion. Is that cold? Is that calloused? I honestly don't think I care anymore. He's pulled my last string, got on my last nerve and now I'm done. But...my family saga does make for entertaining reading!

The story of my nutty brother started about four years ago. It was mothers day, the whole family with the exception of one of my brothers were gathered at my parents home to have dinner and celebrate. Kirt, my brother who wasn't present was living in Mesa at the time. During our visit he called to wish my mother a happy mothers' day, and I happened to be the one who answered the phone call. We had always had a close relationship so we got to talking and eventually it came out that he and his family left the LDS religion.

Kirt and his wife had always been very religious, even overly zealous about it at times, so to hear that he had denounced the religion and further-more, that he was no longer Christian, came as quite a shock. My stunned silence spoke volumes, in his mind it was my disapproval. But I assured him that his beliefs had nothing to do with our relationship and that I didn't think any less of him. He seemed to appreciate the words of comfort. He asked me to relate the news to the rest of the family and I agreed. Then with a positive note, our chat ended. That's where I thought the discussion of religion would end, but I was wrong.

It was about a week later that my mother recieved a letter from Kirt. She called me to tell me she now knew what had happened to him, "He's gone insane." She said, matter-of-factly. I didn't quite understand until she let me read the letter for myself.

The letter was four or five pages, typed and single spaced. At first he went on about all the historical evidence that "proves" our church to be wrong. (stuff I've heard a lot before, from others who had left the church). But then Kirt began to say things about his inlaws trying to poison him and his wife with aluminum poisoning in order to control their minds. When they "figured out" what these people were up to, the poisonings became attempts to murder Kirt. Everything he said was very strange, like a scene straight from A beautiful mind.

I was dumbfounded. I didn't really know how to take all of this. My first inclination was to book a seat on the next flight down to Phoenix to talk some sense into my brother, or at least persuade him to seek professional help. It was obvious from the letter, however, that his suspicions had begun to spread to our family too. He mentioned several times how he supposed we would now try to "love" them back into the church, or hold some kind of intervention. Any drastic action would only heighten his paranoia. In the end I decided that writing a letter would be the best course of action. I wanted him to know that I cared about him and his wife and son, that I would be there for them if there is anything they need.

A little over a week after sending him my letter of sisterly love and concern, I recieved my own long-winded angry letter attacking my beliefs, my character, even my intellegence. He also added some new interesting accusations against his former ward members, stating that he believed many of them to be in on the plot to poison him and his family. He claimed he discovered neighbors following him in the grocery store, people breaking into his home while he was out, just to slip some mercury into his food, he even claimed there was an organized commitee of neighbors and former friends all working for the same common goal: get Kirt.

I couldn't leave well enough alone. I had to talk to him. I wrote again, figuring a letter was a lot less threatning. I asked him to explain why he would be a target. I thought that by challenging his belief system, it would eventually break down. Boy was I wrong.

The next time I heard from my brother, he called me obscene names and drudged up my past in order to throw it in my face. I couldn't take it any longer. I wrote him one more time, this time writing him off completely. What can a girl do? After all, I'm no shrink I'm from the same disfunctional family he's from.

My next post is going to be the second part to this story. I lost contact with my brother for about a year and a half. Then, out of the blue, our paths crossed yet again. And the story gets even stranger the second time around.