Voting

Princess came home today to hear us talking about voting tomorrow. Man has already voted via absentee ballot. She got excited about a project they are doing at her school where all of the kids get to vote for the guy they think should be president of the US.

I immediately got wary.

Me: So, is it anonymous? Are your teachers going to find out who you vote for?

Princess: I don't know.

Man: Do you know who you're allowed to vote for?

P: Nope. Who are they?

Me and Man: [exchanging glances]

Man: Well, the whole idea of voting is to educate yourself and vote for the person who you think would best serve our country.

(I thought he did a really great job of being totally neutral on the topic)

Me: Texas is historically Republican, isn't it? How do we know their teachers aren't going to be biased? Is she going to come home and tell me I'm wrong?

Man: -sigh- (I have that effect on him sometimes)

Princess: So, what are their names?

Me: There are two people the nation is focusing on. Their names are John McCain and Barack Obama.

Princess: I think I'll vote for the guy whose name is easier to say.

Me: Um, I think you should hear what each of them has to say before you choose.

Princess: Who are you voting for?

Me: Obama.

Princess: Why?

Me: I think he's better than the other guy.

Princess: Ok, I'll vote for him.

Tag: Do you know who I'm going to vote for? Obama.

Me: Come on, guys. You need to hear what they are about before you vote.

Man: Not that it'll matter anyway, with the electoral collage and all that.

Me: Oh, come on. I'm not going to waste women's suffrage on political pessimism.

-sigh-

So, go vote. Educate yourself, pray, and do this great country a service.



Princess: I've had perfect attendance at school so far!
Me: That's great! I'm glad you're going to school and liking it.
Princess: [pause] Jesus was perfect. Did he have perfect attendance at school?
Me: Well, um, he died kind of young. I think he missed out on a few things in life.
Princess: Oh, that's sad.
Me: Yeah.

Halloween!

pic catch up

This is a picture catch up post.

Princess took this one of a poster in her room from an archaeological fair we went to.

Just an interesting pic.


I don't remember if I've already posted this one or not. But it still makes me laugh.


My mom had the cutest idea: she sent the kids each a Halloween card with a $2 bill! I thought it was clever. I shamefully admit that I forgot to give the kids their mail when they got home and only remembered them after the older three were all tucked in. Here is Frieda enjoying her card.




I love this grin. She shows all her cute little teeth and wrinkles her nose.
These two girls, looking like peas in a pod.

She fell asleep like this on Saturday. It was a long day.

There was a case lot sale where we got a box of bacon. I thought it would be in one pound packages. Imagine my surprise.

Man's hummingbird feeder.
She sometimes locks herself in bedrooms and then hollers for help. She only hollered a couple of times before stopping, so I checked on her and found this. Doesn't look comfy at all.



And I just noticed I don't have any pics of Princess this time 'round. She usually prefers to be behind the camera, just like her old mom.

Cost analysis

9 pound briscuit = $15
1 bottle liquid smoke - $2.45
Salts for rub = $2

Labor (rubbing meat, setting to rest overnight, preparing roasting vessel, removing excess fat, clean up) = 3 hours.

Total final product = slightly under 3 pounds.
Price per pound = $6.48, $6.98 if you include the KC Masterpiece that goes on top of the meat.

VS

5 pounds bbq beef in tub from Sams = $10
Price per pound = $3.33, and that includes bbq sauce.

What will I be buying from now on? The math says it all.

-sob- I need to go clean more grease off my counter.

Halloween

Pebbles, what do you want to be for Halloween?

Mmmmm, circle!

You want to be a circle?

Yeah! -grin-

Kids say the darndest things

We arrived a few minutes before church started. Today was pretty special since Bishop had gotten permission to completely flip the meetings so the Primary kids could practice their program. Last week we had to drive to the larger building on the other side of town since our building was getting the gym floor refinished. These people also don't want to have Saturday practices. We had had only one previous run through and it had been just to have all the kids walk up to the microphone, say their name, and sing the songs in the right spots. There would be no dress rehearsal.

We went to the primary room and I played prelude and a few practice songs until we could file on down into the chapel. We went through everyone's parts with great brevity, and the special bits of the songs had a really fast run through. It looked like it was all coming together in a quick-patch sort of way. Our class, the Sunbeams, was having the roughest time with sitting still, as was to be expected. We have one little girl who NEVER sits in her seat. She's the daughter of the primary chorister, so she follows her mom around everywhere and refuses to stay put. I play the piano, and Man holds our baby and tries to keep order, so she's not only the squeaky wheel, she's the popped hubcap that's fleeing across the cow pasture next to the highway. We're working with her.

During practice she wouldn't keep her seat or say anything into the microphone and ran out of the chapel several times to find her sympathetic father since all of the people in the room who have the authority to check her had their hands completely full. Oh, well. Kids were largely remembering their lines and one kind teacher ended up being the stage-whisper lady for the ones who needed a nudge.

After a practice that took 44 mins, we headed back to the primary room where the kids got a heavy snack of crackers, cheese, fruit, and water. It was a great idea. It made them all happy and tired enough that they actually sat pretty still during sacrament meeting.

The kids sat on the stand from the beginning of the meeting. Man sat with our class while I had Pebbles and Freida on a pew, and a sub played the piano. It was the first sacrament meeting in YEARS where I've been able to just close my eyes and meditate. It was wonderful.

The program started out with a narration from one of two older boys, and kids started saying their parts into the microphone. Tag had a line during the "things I love about this world" part: "I like walking to school and seeing the sunrise. It's cool looking."

The idea the leaders had this year was to ask the kids questions relating to the primary program, write down their actual responses, and let them say those during the program. It was brilliant.

Other kids:
I like airplanes and jets.
I like rain and sand, and playing in them.
I like my toys and I like to play with my baby.

Except, the last bit was rushed and whispered and ended up sounding like "I like to play with my peepee."

Oh, did I mention that because of the flip-flop that we had the single's ward with us? They were a great audience.

We got to that little girl's turn at the microphone and wonder of wonders she happily said her part! Her mother was thrilled. But then she wouldn't get down from the lectern. Her mom gestured her away. S shook her head. Her mom jerked her hands in a gesture that appeared to mean "kid, please, just step away from the darn step stool." S shook her head and smiled coyly. The Stage Whisper lady eventually came and peeled her away with just a little resistance.

The program progressed with some great special musical guests to cover the kids' lack of knowing words to extra verses, but it really enhanced the whole experience. The bishopric sang the second two verses of Tell Me the Stories of Jesus while the kids "oooo'd" which was just perfect. The missionaries sang the second verse of Called To Serve. One older child sang the third verse to If The Savior Stood Beside Me. She did a fantastic job. The H family got to sing the second verse of I Love to See The Temple.

Ok, let's backtrack about 20 years real quick.

My family used to sing songs before bedtime. We sang I Love To See the Temple and it went like this:

I love to see the temple
I'm going there some day
To feel the Holy Spirit
To listen and to pray
For the temple is a holy place
Where we are sealed together
As a child of God I've learned this truth:
A family is forever.

However, some smart boy decided to split that verse in half, make up some more words, and thus we now have two verses that go like this:

I love to see the temple
I'm going there some day
To feel the Holy Spirit
To listen and to pray
For the temple is the house of God
A place of love and beauty
I'll prepare myself while I am young
This is my sacred duty

I love to see the temple
I'll go inside some day
I'll covenant with my Father
I'll promise to obey
For the temple is a holy place
Where we are sealed together
As a child of God I've learned this truth
A family is forever.

So, Man and I have been practicing as a family for the past two weeks. We got the words perfect, the kids knew the words, Man had worked out his own wonderful harmony and we were ready.

For the actual singing of the song, we (who have come to be known as the Other Osmonds, no, not my idea) had a total flashback experience to our own childhood primary programs and TOTALLY bombed the words in the middle. We recovered and smiled and wondered if the other adults who learned the other words felt our pain. Maybe it'll keep us from being asked to duet for a while. lol

At some point during the program I noticed that we had fewer and fewer Sunbeams on the stand. I realized our big mistake: they all had a big snack and a drink and we forgot to take them to the bathroom before sacrament meeting. They had gone for two and a half hours without a bathroom break and, right in the middle of it all, they took turns asking my pained-looking husband if they could go use the potty right now. A couple of parents from the congregation got up from their seats to see that the wee ones behaved themselves in the bathroom and soon all was restored. The older kids didn't bat an eyelash. It all went smoothly.

Anyway, Tag had two parts. The second part was about what they loved about their families. Tag's reply: I like that we eat food together, like pie and ice cream. That got a laugh. So did the kid who said "I like my family because of the TREATS." And of course there was the obligatory kid who stared at the congregation like a deer in headlights, while the Stage Whisper lady tried to get their attention. The kid sort of half-smiles then says "WHAT?" really loudly into the microphone. It happens every year and it always evokes a laugh, especially from the young singles. This year, it was our kid. He looked so entranced by all those faces just staring at him. Imagine that: Tag loved the attention of 150 people people on him all at once. There were several kids who, though faced with all those grownups while they were seated, looked visibly startled to walk to the lectern and find that the grownups were still there and, what's more, there were more of them than they could see from their seats.

Princess said her lines wonderfully (lines she wrote herself) and she read a talk on the Holy Ghost that we made together. She was struggling with a couple of the words during practice, but didn't need help with them at all during the program. She read them perfectly. I was so proud of her and she glowed.

The congregation joined in for the second two verses of We Thank Thee O God For a Prophet and then the closing hymn was If The Savior Stood Beside Me Part Deux, with the congregation singing the whole song. It was a very moving experience to see so much participation from so many different aspects of our little ward family. All of the stress was worth those 40 minutes. The kids did such a great job, the songs turned out great, and there wasn't a dry eye in the room by the time we got done singing together.

And it bears repeating: kids say the darndest things.

The lazy Perfectaplegic

I am. I'm lazy.

Wait, no, not lazy. I take one look at something, feel the impact of the entire project, and collapse while simultaneously thinking of dew-flecked red tulips, trembling in a cool breeze that strolls across a grandly sweeping grassy valley. The valley has a little brook, and bitty clouds trail across a dazzlingly deep sky. I have a Grecian palace at one end of the valley, with flowing purple silks hanging among carved columns, and I have a personal chef, maid, gardener, and pool boy even though I don't have a pool. I think of this place through eyes that have to face the reality of a living room I cannot solve.

Do you know that feeling when someone is describing something to you and then they get to the word "but"? It's the moment of dread, wondering what could be on the other side of that simple little word that could completely change the meaning and direction of what came before. The power of "but" is mysterious and often disappointing. It's a traitor. I hate the feeling of the word "but". So, understand that as you read the following, and imagine how I feel:

The simple reality is, we have too much stuff. But, it isn't all mine. But I want it to leave. But I can't get rid of it. But I need to get rid of it. But if I do, Man will feel betrayed and deprived. But he doesn't understand. But he needs to understand so I can be happy here too. But it's his stuff and it's important to him. But I stay here all day long and have to deal with it and I have to clean around it and push things around in and among it so it all fits. But it's his and he likes it and wants it and its useful.

Each time I get to each bend in this wickedly crooked trail of logic I feel that stab, that slight feeling of breathless anxiety as I think of different ways to solve this problem and someone's BUT gets in my way.

I'm part of the problem. He doesn't have the time and I (fingerquote)DO(/fingerquote) to go through all the stuff we have and decide what goes and what stays. And then I (fq)have the time(/fq) to dispose of it all properly through freecycle, recycling, dumps, and parceling out the garbage at a pace that won't upset our nice garbage men. Some of this is my stuff. Some of this is stuff I insisted on acquiring. So obviously I can't and I won't blame it all on him because that nice man actually helped me rearrange the living room tonight after a semi-blow up about people walking in front of the tv while the tv and the person occupied by it was busy.

Here this now and understand it: there is nothing on tv that is more important than your family. Ever. Never, ever.

TV can be paused. Turned off. Recorded for later viewing. Or ignored. It will always be there and it will always get better/worse regardless of if we're there to monitor its progress for just one more minute please it's almost over... All games worth playing can be paused somehow. They can be saved so you can come to dinner in a timely manner. They can be muted and dimmed for family scripture and prayer time. And all of this can be done without fighting or feeling put upon. All of this can be done gracefully, with dignity and decorum.

So, we rearranged the living room so that it is virtually impossible for someone to walk in front of the tv without smashing into something immediately afterward. I'm not saying that someone won't, and if I were a betting woman I'd put some donuts down that say it'll happen a few times this very weekend. It has effectively cut the living room in half, which I despise, but one point of moderate contention in our home has been resolved.

And yet, for all this OCD, perfectaplegic, anxiety attack-inducing clutter drama, I've got "mother of more than 2 kids" syndrome. Today we went and had lunch with Man on post. We were enjoying hotdogs and I was giving Freida little pieces of bun and hotdog (have you seen BallPark's jumbo hotdogs? freaks of freakin' nature, they are) when someone seemed a little surprised that I was giving my baby bits of mystery meat. I told him she was lucky I wasn't just giving her the whole weiner to munch on, which almost caused the man in question to inhale his own chaking hazard in a gufaw.

Then we went to Wal-Mart where one of the nice sample ladies gave us some Mentos to munch on during our box store browsings. Pebbles dropped hers somewhere in the meat section (never to be seen again) which of course was The End Of The World As She Knew It. I looked around real quick, and gave her mine. Yes, prechewed. Well, chewed by me. I didn't get it already chewed. Ahem. Moving on.

So, I'm organizing a price book so I can maximize our food dollar, even though gas is $2.13 at last count this afternoon. And I'm on my fifth version just for formatting issues. I havn't even bought food the last couple of weeks because I've had a serious, OCD shutdown. We've used food in the weirdest ways just so I don't have to put together another menu because my old menus don't worry anymore given my changing grocery resources and monetary resources. No more California Rolls, and trimming the meat and cheese in any way possible, etc.

So, I havn't organized my perfect menus yet because I don't have my perfect price books yet, and thus we've had these chicken salad sandwiches that we slapped cheese on and grilled like a normal grilled cheese sandwich (very tasty, by the way) but ate them with butternut squash soup.

We've eaten chicken pot pie that was very heavy on the potatoes and had more of a curry persuasion, and bread crumbs instead of an upper crust.

We had homemade pizza with pesto instead of pizza sauce (thanks, Friend C, it tastes awesome!) and used our remaining couple of marinated artichoke hearts on it as well.

We've made burritos only to find that the frozen beans and rice I thawed were more along the lines of red beans and ham than refries. Oh, well. That kind tastes fine with salsa and cheese, too.

We've also tried the saltines and honey that the little elf guy in Spiderwick Chronicles liked so much, and the kids have gone crazy with that. It's their new favorite snack, followed by one that I liked as a kid: raw oats with brown sugar sprinkled on. I still like that snack.

-sigh- This is crazy. Just insane. We ended up having pancakes for dinner because we simply ran out of any other reasonable ingredient to prepare. I will have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

Right after I take Princess to her Scout event, revise my price lists again, go to my three major grocery stores, take a load of boxes to GoodWill, and declutter my newly arranged living room. Oh, and write a talk for Princess for the primary program on Sunday, fold three loads of laundry... oh, you get the idea. I'm forever "getting organized" but I've never actually arrived. If I do, don't ask where the cold breeze is coming from.

Spanking vs Shacking

Laugh Out Loud, folks. Based on this article, entitled "Spank Your Kids? You Likely Vote Republican." you are likely to vote Republican if you're what Jim Fay calls a Drill Sergeant-style parent.

Pipe down, you exceptions. They covered their rears when they said "likely."

We believe in well-behaved and considerate children, but we also encourage independent thought and self-sufficiency. We're registered Independents. :)

And folks, don't mind my politics. I'm not interested in war with those who disagree with me. I grew up Republican but saw a bit of the other side of things when I lived in Colorado. And next time you vote, take a look and see how many parties actually have a candidate for President, yet we limit ourselves to just two choices. There are even people running for that office who are listed as "unaffiliated" (including ol' Ralph Nader this year, who is running for the 4th time -- 5th, if you count the year he was a write-in).

-sigh- I'll be glad to have this thing over with.

Empty Nester? NOT!

Today's randomly selected topic: Tell about your life as the children left home - new interest, what did you do with the extra time -- new employment, movies, hobbies, etc.


Hmmm. Well, when the older kids started going to school, my house was very clean. I felt like I finally had time to scrape things into order without it falling apart instantly.

Then I found Hulu. And I start visiting teaching. And I have two callings. And then there's cooking, and grocery shopping, laundry, keeping up with the kids on chore charts and homework, reading... do you see where this is going? It's like income. As soon as you get more, you feel rich but then you always find ways to spend it and need more.

I always thought that I'd do things like go to school (which is still on the backburner for the next place we live -- our New Year's tradition is to file a FAFSA about 5 mins after midnight), maybe drive around more and do fun mom things, as if I only had two kids. I've thought about gardening which is a lot of fun but nothing I really want to invest in here. I thought I'd exercise a lot more, which I guess I am, since "some" is a lot more than "none."

I like the part in that movie "Failure to Launch" where the guy leaves his parents' house only to find that his dad has converted his old bedroom into a "naked room". Ha! My parents just made a study when I left. I think it'd be nice to have less stuff around with fewer people, and nice to have the place stuffed to the gills when the people come back to visit with more people. I like to think that I'd spend some of all that free time making sure this is a great place for the kids and grands to come for the holidays.

I've always wanted to paint a really big picture on one wall of my house. Something with cherry blossoms or a lighthouse. And a poem. A short poem that's profound, beautiful, and excites a person to be better just by reading it and owning it in their hearts.

When I find that poem, I'll let you know. It might have to a haiku, given my patience/skill levels. Although stencils can make up for a lot in both of those areas.

I know one thing for sure: I won't be moping around when they're all gone. There is too much to do!

Menudo

Oh. My. Goodness. A friend down the street has a Latino boyfriend for whom she cooks menudo soup. Tonight she mentioned her meal plans as I was pulling a homemade pizza out of the oven. I told her I'd never tried it before so she offered to bring a sample by later in the evening.

I came home from a quick trip to the store to find she had come and gone in my absence.

I tried a sip of the broth first. It tasted like water down enchilada sauce. Next came some hominy which made it taste a lot like enchiladas with corn tortillas. Last, I tried the menudo.

Heaven help me. I couldn't swallow it. It was rubbery, and seemed like a cross between chicken and soft tofu, except slimier.

I spit it out but nothing prepared me for the aftertaste of some poor beast's offal. I shuddered, I still shudder, and I can't get the taste out of my mouth. She told me that it's an acquired taste. She was not kidding.

Blech, blech, blech.