Having Older KIds is a Genuine Treat

There's a widow in our ward who recently met someone nice online and married him. Then she found out she has cancer and her prognosis is not good.

My son Sam commented sentimentally, "They are just like Rose and Bernard." They are. And that is exactly the kind of TV--Real World parallel I enjoy talking and thinking about.

I never could relate to baby hunger with it's references to "cheek-munching" and "toe-nibbling." But Sam's comment warms the cockles of my stony mother-heart.

Sam and Mom=Cutest Friends

Family Pictures

If I were still into scrapbooking I would have had a heart attack by now. We haven't had a family photo in years. Unless you count this:

 That was three years ago. You can see Ben's legs behind mine.

My talented neighbor took some new pictures of us. Look at how beautiful Maggie is. She's really nice. There will never be anyone good enough to marry her. It's going to be sad and disappointing, for sure.

And here's adorable Ellen. She is nice too, but very demanding. She jumped off the stairs to impress her brother a few days before this picture was taken and landed on her face. She's airbrushed here because I don't tolerate imperfection.

And here is my handsome 13 year-old-son, Sam. How would it have been to be this good-looking in Jr. High? I'm sure I don't know. The rubber bands on his braces match our color scheme. OF COURSE. (Don't yours?)

And here's a shot of Ben with a real smile. I don't know why he's so camera shy--he's very photogenic. What is Ben smiling at? Probably a rare bird--for sure not Christian pretending to moon him. PRETENDING.

When I look at Ben he sometimes morphs into a grown man in my mind. I can picture him as an adult. This doesn't happen with any of my other kids.  I don't know why. The man I see when I look at Ben looks a lot like Daniel Craig.

And just so you'll know we are a LOT more high-brow than just pretend mooning around here, I'm going to share a little family joke with you. Once Sam was walking around with a big bowl of Top Ramen and he said, "Pah-don" with an English accent and then he sloshed his soup all over into the silverware drawer and down the front of the cabinet. So now we think it's really funny to bumble around and bump into things and say "Oh, pah-don me. . . Pah-don!" See, anything with an English accent is high-brow. You might think it's not that funny, but it is.

Deeply Disturbing

I saw the sickest thing on House last night and I can't stop thinking about it. It was so gross and I hate it. The episode started with a scene on a slave ship from the olden days where everyone has small pox so they sink the ship to contain it. Flash to present day when some scuba divers find an old jar full of these blackish brownish jagged things. I was horrified. Are those big germs in the jar? I wondered. Fossilized germs? What could it be! It's hundreds of years old--what is it? "It looks like feathers," the divers said. Sick. Guess what it was? Scabs. The do-it-yourself-immunizations of the 1700s. Gag. I am seriously gagging right now and trying to stop myself.

I know they weren't real 300-year-old scabs. But that is almost more troubling to me--that a prop designer would conceive of really old preserved scabs as jagged and feathery. What kind of mind would think of that? It's Stephen-King quality and I am slightly impressed but mostly repulsed by it. I deleted it from TIVO immediately because I knew I would be tempted to look at it and pause it and contemplate it. Christian didn't even watch it yet but I had to get rid of it. (He's not that into House this season anyway.) I'm glad I deleted it.  The episode also made reference to "viral shedding" which is a concept that also disturbs me and makes me sick. I hate it when things slough off, infect, expel, extrude, or bud. Ohhhh, more gags. It's like barnacles. Or Freaky Sick Crapola.  

I recently discovered something else that disturbs me deeply: Late-night freeway construction. I've encountered it a few times in the last couple of weeks and I was surprised at how strongly it freaked my out. I really hate the apocalyptic industrialization of it. What else is going on while I'm asleep? It's so organized and well-lit. What if someone evil were in charge? Just think of what they could do during the wee hours. Road construction during the day just seems lazy and inconvenient. It's different at night. It's like someone or something is mobilizing.  It creeps me out.

And now you know a fraction of my torment.

My My My My My Boogie Shoes

So I took the kids to see the So You Think You Can Dance tour last night and it was super awesome. I'm not going to lie--it was rife with stilted, cornball transitions the likes of which I haven't seen since the Sonny and Cher Show. But still--we came to dance. I mean, didn't we?



The crowd was kuh-razy for Kent. People shrieked. I've never been all that susceptible to his charms but after seeing him live I will say this: He is the exact opposite of unwatchable. And let's hope he stays churchy and small town! (I'm partial to churchy and small-town, personally.) Am I about to show you two guys slow-dancing in tight, light jeans with tank tops? Yes. Would I normally make fun of something like this? Yes. Did I find it moving to the point of just before having tears in my eyes last night? I don't want to say. (In my family this dance is known affectionately as "Footface.")

What can I say? I'm really into pirouettes. Plus: Leroy Johnson from Fame taught me to enjoy that particular cut of pants. (I would personally prefer Neil's foot in my face--you know, if I were in a situation where I had to choose.)

And no matter what anyone ever says or how hard people try to convince me otherwise, I maintain that this is just about the most adorable thing ever in the whole world:

Candy Policy

I have the utmost respect for people who have policies about their kids' Halloween candy. But as a general policy I like to have as few policies as possible. And this goes for Halloween candy too. What I do (in case you're wondering!) is just let my kids eat it. I eat some of it too, if they offer. They really look forward to coming home and just carrying their pillow case full of candy around with them as long as it lasts. They eat some candy every day until it is gone. Sometimes they eat a lot and they say, "Whoa. I am really full of candy." Then I say, '"Yep." Ben is proud to have rationed and hoarded his candy so it would last a whole year. I think this is actually a pretty great accomplishment--the stuff of legends, one might say. And we do! "Remember when Ben saved his Halloween candy clear 'til the next Halloween? That was awesome." The best I ever did was make my Easter candy last through the summer.

Some people throw away all of their kids' candy after taking them from party to party to collect it from nice people who bought it for them. That seems strange.  I guess I don't mind if people just throw out all the candy I bought them for Halloween. But if that's how it's going to go down, it seems like we could eliminate some steps in the Trick or Treating process? Whatevs!

I've noticed that some people have an elaborate candy buy-back policy. There is nothing like teaching kids the value of a dollar. Why not let parents pay for the candy twice on top of the costumes and the decorations and the exertion of Trick or Treating itself? Kids deserve it. Actually, they don't, which is why I would never buy back my kids' Halloween candy. Of course, I'm notoriously cheap.

I know you would never ever judge me for my lack of policies but I feel it must be said that none of my kids have ever had a cavity. (In case you're wondering!) Bon Appetit. The Laffy Taffies last a long, long time.