My boys - growing up...

We had "the talk" with Logan last night - the last one of our kids. Boyd did so good, I hardly had to say a thing. I was glad for that, because I was having a hard time admitting it was time for by baby to hear it. Logan was so excited to finally get his turn - in fact he kept asking when he would get his turn at "the talk". Our tradition is to take the boys our to their restaraunt of choice after the talk - you know, to ease the horror that their little brains have just gone through. I'm surprised they've had an appetite after!! And I'm even more surprised Logan didn't pick a buffet. Yay for us!
Anyway, as we were getting ready to go, Logan was stepping into the shower and Spencer said to him "Hey Logan - why are you getting clean when you are just going to barf all over yourself?" We all had a good laugh...
Next, after we got home from church, Logan was so proud "Hey mom - I memorized one of the words we talked about - Vajayjay!" (except that wasn't what he said). Bryant almost spit his lunch out he was laughing so hard. He told Logan not to ever say that word again - he could say vampire or Virginia, but not that word again. EVER.
And lastly, after we watched the Olympic closing ceremonies (BOOOO - except for Michael Buble)we were excited to watch "The Marriage Ref" - from the commercials it looked pretty funny, and it was. My favorite part was about a couple that were fighting over having a stripper pole installed in their home. The wife DID NOT want one, but of course, the husband did. Spencer said he sided with the wife "because it's just one more surface to clean!".
Amen bruthah!

If you can dump it, dump it!

A man? A friend? Rotten meat? No. What am I talking about Willis? I'm talking about baby poop in cloth diapers, peeps!



I work with the BEST people ever! We were chatting at work today and they told me I should write a book about my childhood. Really? Who wants to know about boring old Angie's childhood? I mean, I am so boring, I loves me the Olive Garden and I switch between 2 dishes there. I don't even mix it up!

2 childhood memories were relayed at different times to my co-workers today - don't even ask me how they came up:

1. I always wondered why our next door neighbors house was cold, or cool, in the summer while my house was always muggy and my sheets were damp. I always wanted to be at the Bezzants house in the summer because their house was magically cool. Little did I know that my wet sheets were not on account of some kid my mom was babysitting, but because I had a luxurious swamp cooler IN MY BEDROOM WINDOW! That's right - you heard me. West Valley is in the HIZ-OUS!I later learned that this cool phenomenon at the Bezzaants was central air. I vowed then and there I wouldn't have a swamp cooler in my bedroom window ever again and I would one day have central air. Check! One thing off my bucket list. It will probably be the only thing...


CAUTION, THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS NOT APPROPRIATE FOR CHILDREN AND/OR ADULTS WITH CLASS, MANNERS, OR GOOD TASTE (that should really be the title to my blog):
2. Having to go to the bathroom soooo bad, lifting up the toilet and finding a dirty cloth diaper taking a little relaxing dip in the toilet. AAAAAARGH! There was no way I was reaching down into the ice cold poop water, fishing out the grody diaper, and then ringing it with my bare hands. I had to do it enough when my mom made me. There was no way I was going to do it on my own without my mom forcing me. Mom's rule was if you had to go potty and there was a dirty cloth diaper in the toilet, you had to clean it out. No "smeller's the feller" here! I think her rule should have been "I decided to have these D kids, so I should rinse out their dirty diapers" right? As I was telling the story to my friends, Julie kept saying over and over again "Ohhhh, if you can dump it (meaning the poop), dump it - don't rinse it!" She had lots of experience with cloth diapers too. Poor thing.

So what did I do when I found a "non-dumpable" diaper relaxing in the throne? I just went on top of the diaper. Nothing like a turd on top of a turd filled diaper! I did get caught and reamed a few times, but in my defense, I was not the only one who did this. Many times I found a gift from someone else.

However, in an effort to be obedient, I went across the street to the neighbor's house and used their toilet. I would rather walk to another family's toilet than clean out the diaper in ours. That statement still rings true today. Some things never change.

It's about D time!

I was reading my cousin's blog (thanks Eden!) and I couldn't have had more similar thoughts than hers. In fact, I thought about just copying her entry and posting it on mine. Great minds things a like I guess. Anyway, I have had nothing to say. NOTHING! My days all blend together, I spend too much time at work, my family does a great job of taking care of themselves, and I feel guilty every day. Who wants to read that? Nobody. That's who.
So, in an effort to at least keep my blog semi-active, here's what's going on. I'll save the best for last.

Sledding -the first picture looks nasty, but hey, we haven't had that much snow this year!

Talk about a skid mark!


My little LiLi had hernia sergery. Poor little lamb, but he's okay now...


Basketball games...

I got to babysit my little Lili and Addie. I absolutely adore them and I just want to eat Liam up! Isn't he the cutest?


Do I even have to say who'se daughter she is?

Addie always knows when she comes over to ask for hot cocoa, made with my sweet Cocoa Grande machine, with a candy cane for stirring, and popcorn. When I was making her her treats Boyd said "Geez, you don't do this for your own kids". He's right! I don't do everything my kids ask me too! That's what neices and nephews are for! My kids get the shaft, isn't that how it should be?
Speaking of "getting the shaft", I was tired of getting it from my kids. I was sitting in church on Sunday morning a few weeks ago and was madder than crap. We had spent ALL day doing deep cleaning on Saturday, And when I say ALL day, I really mean ALL day. Like 10 hours of work - and my house isn't bad to begin with! We deep clean every Saturday, and the boys have chores during the week. It's not like I've been featured on "Hoarders" or anything. At least that would have been a good excuse for why it takes the boys so long.
Let me even step back a few, both Boyd and I work all week, I usually get home around 7 or later, so I have time to crack the whip on homework and chores, snarf down some dinner, and by bedtime, I am completely exhausted. Completely. I would really like to spend some time on the weekend with my family doing something fun as there is no time for fun during the week. But fun doesn't come until after deep cleaning is done on Saturday.
Come Sunday morning, I've had it. We have no time for fun and relaxation. We don't get to enjoy each other like I would like. As I think about this, and think about everytime I would check on the boys and their chores and find them playing with each other, teasing each other, or just standing there, I was getting madder and madder. Not to mention, I had found lots of chores on Sunday morning that I was told were done, and they were not. Let me repeat, we had been cleaning ALL day on Saturday and didn't do anything else. I had spent the whole day watching over the boys' shoulders, telling them to hurry, asking them if they had done what they were supposed to, and I had HAD IT! Not to mention, a few months before this, I had made step-by-step charts for each one of the rooms in our house for deep cleaning Saturday. Each step has a check box, and I put the charts in page protectors and the boys use dry erase markers to mark off each step. These charts were made because again, I had told them 800 times how to deep clean a bathroom, but somehow they don't think that cleaning the edges of the tub are important, or the base of the toilet. or the....and the list goes on.
So, even with the charts, the boys were marking off each step, even if they had not done it. In fact, I'm pretty sure we had gone a few weeks without certain kids even reading the entire chart.
So, as I am trying to not to bring the entire ward down before sacrament, and also trying really hard not to go up to the deacons/teachers in their designated sacrament passing rows and knock some heads around, Boyd told me not to worry, he had a great object lesson to teach them. He could tell I was on the brink of explosion.
Enter in an object lesson for the ages.
Boyd and I "made dinner" on Tuesday night.


"Dinner" consisted of frozen hamburger, potato pearls, tuna fish, banana's, tomato soup (without the liquid) and corn.
We even covered the concotion with tin foil, set the table, called the boys in, and pulled out dinner from oven (the oven wasn't even on).
As we presented dinner, the looks ont their faces couldn't be replicated. Boyd and I pulled off Operation Shock and Awe. The government couldn't even do that. We are that good.


The camera couldn't even catch what we saw.
We presented dinner, and said "hey guys, we made dinner! Who wants the first serving?" They weren't sure what to say - they were all dead silent. I said again "hey, we made dinner, who'se first?"
Silence.
I then pulled out the charts, or in this case, the "recipes". I said "hey, Dad and I decided not to use the recipe for dinner, but hey we made dinner! We seem to have something going on in this house where we don't need to read or follow our recipes, and I figured, if it's alright for you guys to do it, it's alright for us. But hey, I made dinner, right? Just like you did your chores!"
Silence.
"You boys tell me your chores are done, but they are not, you haven't used your recipe, so I thought to myself, well, if the boys can do it, so can I. I decided not to make the potatoes or cook the meat, but hey I still made dinner. Finishing things just doesn't seem to be a priority, so I guess I don't have to finish my things either. Our dinner is done just like your chores are "done", right?"
Silence.
We then had a lengthy discussion (it was really a one way discussion) about doing things right, following the directions, and finishing completely. We also talked aout the dishonesty that was going on with marking the charts, but not actually doing what they marked done.
Next, they all went silently to their rooms, without dinner. I made dinner, but for some reason, nobody wanted any. Little did they know, I had Wendy's in the car for me, Boyd, and Spencer. Why Spencer? Because he was the only one who had taken the charts seriously. He was the only one I didn't have to constantly monitor, he was the only one who didn't have to be told twice to get his chores done. In fact, the first week I enlisted the help of the "charts", Spencer told me how much he liked the charts because it made him feel like he was really accomplishing something. So we snuck Spencer out of his room and fed him Wendy's - his brothers never knew.
Needless to say, the boys not only went to their room to ponder the night's discussion, but they each cleaned their rooms without being asked. It was a night for the record books - and so far, all we have to do is say "remember frozen hamburger dinner?" and they usually get to it.
I ended the discussion that night saying "Was it a surprise that mom and dad did this?" To which they all agreed it was. The last thing I said is "Well, there's more where this came from - dinner like this is just the start. If you want to behave the way you have been behaving, turn about is fair play. Just remember, there's a lot more where this came from."
Oh yeah, don't mess with a ticked mom.