Birthday month

Happy 8th birthday Rebecca!

Alternate ways to extinguish stubborn candles

All she wanted for her birthday was a giant stuffed animal and to get her ears pierced--Here she  is in front of the TV with her new friend.

Rebecca was out of her mind excited to get her ears pierced--my girls have to wait until they are 8 years old. It is a highly anticipated event.

Nervous anticipation.

We got this on video--so funny! Rebecca got the first one pierced (seen here) and then looked at us with bewilderment--"That's it? Are you sure it is pierced? Check--I don't think it's pierced..."

Nathaniel turned 13 on November 2nd and got one present from his parents--an Ipod Nano

Pretty lucky kid if you ask me. 

He was pretty excited and can now read lips as he never takes out the earphones.

Yep, I'm all that--

Friday October 17--I have a paper due on Monday. It is not small. I have been furiously searching through our textbook to find a story that I either love, or hate, and then formulate my thesis. The teacher said he was eagerly anticipating what we did with this assignment. I said we were too. 

I had yet to chose one by 6 pm Friday night. 

I  am not a procrastinator. I am a little OCD with my papers. They are like the children of my brain or something. So Friday night I'm at the park with Peter and the kids and *bam* I get the idea for my thesis. 

It is brilliant--like a revelation from above.

Back at home it is 8:00 and I get on the computer. I am so in my element. I had to get this paper out so I could spend the rest of the weekend in a state of non-hysteria, leaving me plenty of time to revise. I typed madly until 6 am. I know, I haven't stayed up that late (without a screaming baby, anyway) since I was a teenager. A young teenager.

By 3 am I start to think about tomorrow, and I realize I am hungry. By 4 am I realize I am cold. By 5 am I really have to pee. But who cares about food, sleep, clothing, or annoying bodily demands? The keyboard and I are one and I am in the zone. I finally run out of steam at 6 am around page 11.

So, fast forward to this Wednesday. I am a few minutes late. The teacher is passing back our papers. I have been in anxious anticipation of this moment. But I don't get mine back. When I raise my hand to ask why he informs me that because I was late I did not catch that he held three papers back as examples of a good thesis. I feel like an idiot, but am also thinking, this has to be a good thing, right? Unless of course, he lost it or something.

So today, Friday, --FINALLY--I get to see my paper. It is like a sweet reunion. I could scarcely look to see what he had done to it. "A thoughtful self-analysis. A sensitive, careful reading. Final grade 'A'"

I could cry. Am I pathetic? Slam dunk, baby!

But before you consider me overly boastful--my last analysis, which was just a 2-pg deal, was also a source of pride for me. He gave me an "A" and I was elated. As part of the assignment we are supposed to pass out these shorter papers to the rest of the class. So, a few days later I did so and um....yea--he graded it again, this time with an A-. 

Apparently it didn't make enough of an impression on him to remember he had already graded it.

While he likely hasn't thought about this latest paper beyond the last minute before he moved on to grade the next one, today I am a happy woman.

So, in light of all this literary theory, is there something Freudian about me wanting to get this thing professionally framed? I'll analyze that one later-- For now I'll just sit back, and bask in the warm light of my temporary success.

Halloween

Exhibit A: My husband is really a goofball.

He is also a sourpuss when it comes to Halloween and thinks it is a lousy pagan holiday. It is dangerous for kids and good for dentists, bla bla bla. 

"Every party has a pooper..."

I try to make Peter feel guilty by telling him that Halloween was my mom's favorite holiday, and since she's gone, we should be celebrating it in her memory. That usually does the trick. 

Thanks, mom.

Batman clutching his candy to his bosom in a token of love.

We went trick-or-treating down Mainstreet where they have vendors from all over town pass out candy to the kids and coupons to the moms. Great PR and kids love it.

I told this guy he was lookin' sexy and Sarah scolded me for embarrasing her.

Well, he was hot, after all. I dreamt about entangling my fingers in his fro all night long.

Hubba hubba!!

There was a long line of people all up and down Mainstreet. I noticed a significant bottleneck at the nursing home, where they had lined up residents and were letting them pass out the candy.

Very cute idea, I thought.

I did take note of how Halloween is an excuse for women to dress up like whores. 

Very tasteful, especially in broad daylight.

Sarah the gypsie. She and 7 other girls in the ward all decided to dress up as the same thing together.

Rebecca and best friends Cadie and Alecia. I think Rebecca was a vampire.

Nathaniel and good friend Mason. Mason is a swimmer and went as Michael Phelps. I thought it was very creative! I'm not sure what Nathaniel is, maybe the chain saw massacre guy?

Just before I left for my night class on Thursday I came into the bathroom to find Nathaniel doing this. What did I do?

A. Accuse him of watching "Silence of the Lambs"

B. Congratulate him on his creativity and talent

C. Tell him he'd better clean up the bathroom after he is done

D. Advise him to put some straws up his nose so he can breath when it dries

E. Laugh at the hair band

Enter your vote and let me know(:

Fall at last!

The weather here has been pretty warm for this time of year, and I'm about done with it. I know I shouldn't feel that way because every day I walk to my classes without snow on the ground is a blessing. But fall came through yesterday and it was gorgeous with leaves everywhere. It was perfect.

Family Fun

Last weekend we decided to get out and do something fun (and cheap) so Peter came up with the idea to do a little hike.

So we head out in some pretty frigid temperatures to hike and have a picnic lunch complete with smores. 

Having never been to this place I didn't realize that hiking really meant climbing up large rocks with four kids and a dog. It was some pretty strenuous climbing for us beginners, but John and Rebecca busted right up. Sarah was a little stressed and would occasionally cry that she wasn't going to make it. I'd push on her butt from behind and try to encourage her, but she would get mad at me for laughing. I couldn't help it-- I was thinking--what are we doing? Who else would do this?

The whole way up I was silently contemplating the big question--how are we gonna get down? The dog was billy-goating himself up with his long ol' poodle legs like a giraffe. (Funny!) We get to the top and Peter announces that we need to find another way down, as the way we came up isn't going to work. So after sending Nathaniel down to scout different trails we find one that seems pretty doable, except for one small part that's like a 10 foot drop.

Peter's master plan is to position himself to help lower/coach us down one at a time. Sarah and Rebecca went first and seemed to make it OK. I'm thinking to myself, I don't wanna take this dog down with me--Charlie is going to have to figure it out for himself. He's a dog, after all. You know, instincts and all, right? 

So I let him loose and Charlie goes bounding down, then slides on his stomach sprawl-eagle down the rock and leaps right off the edge in a ten foot rolling finale right into a cactus. We almost killed ourselves laughing. (He was fine--don't worry.) 

Peter says, "Well, Charlie took the quick way down, I guess."

So much for dog instincts-- he didn't even look to see how far down it was before he just took off the edge! Peter had the camcorder but didn't catch it on tape--bummer! We almost made $10,000 on AFV!

Over the hill?

My visiting teachers were over the other day and we were discussing school. Sister Gordon commented on how she thought I fit right in with BYU because I look so young. In my classes I have often had other students be very surprised that I have four children. As you might imagine, this has pleased me immensely.

Yesterday I stood in line to get my fix at the candy counter of the BYU bookstore. When I got to the register the 12-year-old student working at the register said they were conducting a survey.

"Are you faculty, staff, or a visitor?"

I look at her with my piercing eye. I am wearing a backpack. I am holding a textbook in my hand.
"I am a student...just an ordinary very old student."
I snatch my receipt from her startled (and undoubtedly youthful) hand and walk away with my chocolate.

Wait...did you hear that? Yea, umm, that was the bursting of my bubble.

The desire of my son's heart

My son's latest interest is "jumping stilts." If you haven't heard of them you are not alone. The reason I know anything at all is directly connected with my being the mother of 12-year-old boy. 

If not for Nathaniel I would be completely ignorant to the important things in life such as--

*duct tape skills in sword, wallet and mask making

*creative ways to scare friends, family and perfect strangers

*every Chuck Norris joke known to mankind

*the highly refined art of rejecting 98% of the clothing in the mall and then complaining that shopping takes too long

*the various lingo and body language of junior high students

Jumping stilts are only this year's obsession. If my life depended on it I could not even try to guess what next year's will be.

When I ponder on the reason why my son's thinking is so diverse (ie: wacky)  I naturally blame it on his father. The same man who asks me questions like:

"What if I was harboring all these years the secret that I could professionally tap dance?"

"What if I wanted to name one of our kids Beowulf?"

"What if you found out I was a actually really rich?"

"What if you discovered I was a government spy?"

"What if I had a secret passion for synchronized clogging?"

My favorite part of these "philosophical" questions is not imagining him doing synchronized clogging, but watching him laugh at his own jokes.

Most people don't know this hidden side of my husband. In my last ward people would ponder out loud how we ended up together, me so goofy, and Peter so sober and serious minded. They assumed my children's quirks were solely the responsibility of their mother. 

Not so. If they only knew. Anyway, I guess the secret is out now. I can't be sure anyone will actually believe me. He is, after all, very convincing.

In case you have the inclination to be enlightened on jumping stilt skills, you can check out this site: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Jg6uMc-Z-k