Thank Goodness for Comic Relief

Sorry for the lack of posting. I have lots of things to talk about. But no time.

Anyway, thank goodness for funny kids. I told you about how Buddy has been so great lately. Hyper -- but so helpful and terrifically behaved. Ironically, though, he's been praying almost every night that he "can be in a better mood tomorrow." I think he's confusing his own mood with mine, if you get what I'm saying.

I was in a really bad mood today. Oh, it was real doosy. (I'll tell you why in a few days.) G was still at work during dinner so I separated myself from the boys to give myself a "break." The sound of them chewing was annoying me and yet they were doing nothing wrong. So I put myself on the couch while the kids were in the next room eating. Imagine my annoyance when Buddy starts in with knock-knock jokes.

Buddy: Knock-Knock
Me: Who's there?
Buddy: Sambo
Me: Sambo who?
Buddy: Sambo who is throwing his broccoli onto the carpet.

In case that didn't come across as funny in written text as it was in person, the child has a gift for comic relief. This is precisely why I adore him.

I told Buddy to tell Sambo to stop it. I was taking a "break," remember so I didn't want to get up off the couch to stop the situation myself. When I finally got up, this is what I found:

Sambo is only 13 months and doesn't respond to anything we say, so I'm sure it was pure coincidence that he stopped throwing food on the floor and instead stuffed it aside for an easier cleanup on my part. Still, pretty dang funny.

Aging by G

Even though M may think she's old and may have a stray gray hair or two, she still looks like a teenager (and a pretty hot one at that!). People don't think that she is older than what she is, unlike me. For example, shortly after we were married, M, Jordan and I went to go get haircuts. I was probably 23 or 24 at that time. For whatever reason, I was the first one in the chair. I started with the obligatory small talk with the lady cutting my hair (you know, like how's your day?, have you been busy?, how long have you worked here?, etc.). There was silence for a little while, which must have made her uncomfortable or something, because she decided to open her mouth and pay me a compliment (at least a compliment in her mind).

She said, "it's nice of you to bring your kids here for haircuts." Not believing that I actually heard her correctly, I said "What?" She then said, "Yeah, it's nice of you to bring your son and your daughter here as a family for haircuts." I replied to her that in fact, I was with my WIFE and my BROTHER-IN-LAW. Realizing the mistake she had made, the rest of the haircut was done in awkward silence. M and Jordan thought it was hilarious that the lady thought that I was old enough to be their dad. So even though most people think M is a teenage mother who doesn't have it together enough to put socks on her kids, at least people don't think she's twice as old as what she really is.

The Golden Child

G and I joke all the time that Sambo is the Golden Child. He has been a very good and easy baby. He's always pleasant and pretty much just goes with the flow. Plus he's cute as all get out.

He's been giving us a real run for our money lately. I still think he's pretty great, but wow, he's busy and all he does is screech and make messes. (Now I remember why one years old was my very least favorite age with Buddy. But Buddy wasn't a screecher, so what was I complaining about with him?)

So mark this day. This is the new Golden Child.

Buddy has been an absolute joy to be around lately. He treats his brother like gold, he is extremely helpful, he's obedient, he's hilarious, and he is an all-around terrific boy. We have a lot going on around here lately and he does everything and more that I ask of him.

Is it asking too much to get both boys on the same Golden Child schedule?

Aging

In the past 24 hours I've had four separate experiences that have made me feel like I'm getting a bit... well, older. And none of my experiences have anything to do with the fact that I've been feeling a bit older. (No, I'm not blogging about how I have to exercise in order to eat candy these days, how I can't sit on the floor very easily any more, or how I have the face of a teenager, but I've found a few stray gray hairs here and there recently. NOW THAT'S JUST NOT RIGHT!)

(1) Yesterday I received a comment from a very lovely friend from my freshman year at BYU. Oh how I love re-connecting. I few moments on her blog made me realize that we would still be friends if we lived in the same area. As I read through some of her old posts I couldn't help but realize how much she seems the same, but how much has changed in our lives since the glory days in Deseret Towers. Then a terrible thought came to me,"Oh crap. It's been THIRTEEN years since I was started college. How old am I!" And if I'm well into my thirties, how do I keep forgetting that?

(2) So instead of going to bed at a decent hour last night, G and I stayed up watching last weekend's episode of SNL. Doogie Howser (sp?) was hosting and he was actually quite funny. He said something about doing his show in 1990 and my initial reaction was, "It seems longer ago than 1990. I swear I was a teenager when that show was on." Then I did a few calculations and realized, "Oh crap. That show was on NINETEEN years ago! I was a teenager THAT long ago! Why does 1990 seems just like yesterday?" And to be honest the fact that I don't know the guy's real name (even though I know he's on a popular show currently) -- and I was laughing hysterically at his jokes -- probably also show how old I am.

(3) So today I was feeling frazzled by hours and hours and hours of conversations with insurance agents trying to nail down some good rates for our auto/home needs. Plus the kids were being... well, kids. So I sent them to nap time/quiet time and did what any self-respecting stay-at-home mom does. I pulled up wiki and tried to find some interesting articles to read about Brandon Flowers (Killers lead singer). I about DIED when I realized there was a reference to a Daily Universe article, the student newspaper at BYU. The article was dated 2006, so I thought to myself, "Do I know that reporter? Was I still working in the newsroom in 2006? Oh crap! I graduated in 2000 and haven't stepped foot in the newsroom since April of that year." Oh, what's a few (six) years.

(4) Then we were driving down the road this evening and Buddy says, "Mommy. I'm soooo sad you're going to die." I say, "What in the world? What makes you say that?" And then he tells me how I'm getting older and he knows we all die when we get older. He also brought the same conversation up with G at dinner, so apparently I'm not the only old one around here.

Rock n Roll

You probably know by now that G and Buddy are both rock stars in the making. They both LOVE music and spend quite a bit of time scoping out new tunes, listening, and memorizing.

When G was a boy he started gathering a collection of tapes. We've got boxes and boxes and boxes of his favorites up in our attic. Now we have 3 jumbo CD books full of CD's and at last count 9300 songs in itunes on our computer. And most of the songs on the computer are different from our CD's. That's a whole lot of music.

I'm sure this is some sort of addiction.

G had a band or two in college and keeps threatening to form another one with work friends. I was really worried he was serious UNTIL somebody invented the game Rockband. Luckily our good friends, Shauna and Jesse got it and let's say G has diverted his rock star energy in that direction instead of inconveniencing me with a real band. G and his buddies are totally and utterly addicted to the game. One friend, Ben, even designed and made them t-shirts to wear while they play. It's hilarious! But I have to admit I really enjoy playing as well. Kinda brings out the rock star in me too.

But anyway, it shouldn't be a big surprise that Buddy is becoming a music addict as well. He knows more songs on the top 40 or alternative stations than most teenagers. It's borderline freaky how well he knows and loves music. (But don't be alarmed, we try very hard to make sure he doesn't hear or repeat inappropriate lyrics.)

For Christmas Santa brought Buddy a guitar so he could start to learn and it's already one of his prized possessions. He plays it all the time and even creates quite a band out of his dinosaurs and stuffed animals, using some of Sambo's toy instruments too. It's quite impressive actually!


Buddy loves the Killers, just like his mama. (He's got taste, you know.) The other night at dinner he gave me a little "karaoke-style" concert. So turn up your speakers and settle in for the cutest junior rock star you've ever heard.

Snow Stories

The crazy weather we've been having with all of the snow has caused me to reminisce about growing up when we would get snow. A few memories come to mind.

Every year that we would get snow, me and some of my buddies would wait behind a car with giddy anticipation and snowballs in hand. There was this one lady who lived in the neighborhood and drove a minivan. As she would drive by, we would pelt her van with snowballs. Every single year, without fail, she would stop as quickly as she could, get out and yell at us. I think the first year we tried to run away. In subsequent years, we knew exactly what she would do, so after hitting her car, we would simply turn around and sit and wait for the expected lecture.

I also remember one year, we had so much snow that the snow plows created a 4 foot median in the middle of the road outside of another friend's house. This also provided hours of entertainment. We would throw snowballs at cars and when they tried to stop, we would simply hop over the median and they could not get to us.

Sometimes, when it would snow really hard and cover all of the streets my dad would get out his dirt bike, tie on a few sleds to the back and take the neighborhood kids out sliding in the streets. Looking back, I'm sure this was really dangerous. Especially the time that we slammed into a curb riding on one of the old-school metal saucers and actually dented it as we went sliding in the street.

Another memory that comes to mind, is all of the times that we spent inner-tubing in the Tahoe Meadows. Inner-tubing has got to be one of the most dangerous activities there is. You knew it was a good time if the next morning you couldn't move one of your appendages and the snow rash on your face was still apparent. Good times.

Socks

We're on a sock strike around here. And when I saw "we," I mean the boys. It's really strange, but neither of my children will wear socks. I realize it's just the age with Sambo. He removes his socks approximately a thousand times a day. Whenever we get in the car, he takes them right off. The other day I was cleaning up the car and found FOUR pair stuffed here and there around his carseat. This morning he took his socks off right when he got into his highchair. I have no idea how he maneuvered that, considering he was strapped in and all.
I tried rob.eez (the knock-off brand) but they don't fit right and he can take those right off too.

Buddy is five and I have no idea what his issue is, but he takes his socks off constantly too. Whenever we go somewhere, he takes his socks off and loses them. It drives me MAD. I don't get it.

I would have given up on socks a long time ago, except strangers feel the need to criticize me and tell me that I "should put socks on my infant." Plus my sister is a therapist and said her dysfunctional parents she deals with usually don't outfit their kids with socks and it drives her nuts. So social pressures have been motivating me to stay the course when it comes to socks. Besides if I saw some "teenage-looking" mom around town with a baby without socks I'd probably judge too.

But today when Sambo took his socks off five seconds after I got him dressed, I rolled them up and put them back in the drawer and said never mind. I'm sick of putting socks on all day and I'm even more sick of buying new ones when they take them off at the store or a friend's house and they get lost.

My children are no longer wearing socks. Until next winter when we'll try this again.