Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
On Sunday we were all sitting around and Cam decided he wanted a banana. I'm cool with that, give the kid a banana and he starts eating it. Suddenly, he decides he doesn't want the banana. In fact, he HATES the banana. What?! So I was confused but told him to just put it down and not throw it away. At which point he starts screaming. Again, I'm confused. But now I'm also a little frustrated and I tell him to calm down, which of course he can't/won't. So I tell him he needs to head to his room for a little alone time until he can act nicely. That's when he errupts and loses it completely. Screaming his head off, hitting the walls. And that's fine because he was doing it on his way to time out. Until he spit the banana on the floor. NOT COOL. I tell Chase, in so many words, that the kid needs some serious punishment and Chase volunteered to take care of it (I was feeling a little too irrational to deal with him - not really a Love and Logic moment for me, Michelle). So Chase goes in and I start to clean up the spitty banana mess. As I approach Cam's doorway I expect to hear Chase laying down the law in a nice, stern manner. Instead, I hear Chase ask, in a loving tone, "Cameron, do you know what insubordination is?" After which Cameron received a lovely lecture on what insubordination is. Looks like Chase has officially become MY father!
p.s. Pictures and updates later today.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
3: number of children I have
75: Diapers I change every week.
$.21: The price of a diaper.
21: Meals prepared per week.
14: Snacks per week.
168: Hours in a week
42: Number of hours of sleep I get each week (this is being generous).
2: bathrooms I have to clean
3: bedrooms I have to clean
1,789: number of times I clean the same thing each week (ie. the same kitchen, the same dishes, the same clothes)
60: number of tiny fingernails and toes that need to be cut, cleaned or filed each week
65: number of months I've been a mother (since finding out I was pregnant with Cameron)
56: number of times I nurse every week
35: number of consecutive months I have been either pregnant or nursing since June 2005
5: number of times I vaccuum each week
1: number of times I am permitted to shower WITHOUT an audience each week
4,650: number of things I forget to do in any given week
3: bare minimum number of times I work out each week - wish it were more
132: number of times I eat something naughty each week (you see the imbalance)
10: number of loads of laundry to wash, dry, fold, put away each week
30: number of minutes of Sophie's morning nap
390: number of minutes from the time the kids wake up in the morning until afternoon nap
4000: number of times my kids smile at me each week
6500: number of times my kids kiss me each week
8,000,000: number of times my kids melt my heart each week
67: number of new things I learn each day (taught my the best teachers around - my kids)
0: number of regrets I have about having my kids how I did, when I did
1: number of loving, devoted husbands I have
Monday, May 12, 2008
I just had to contribute after our visit to the Oklahoma (aka jet-setting) Kilgores this past weekend. It was great. Very relaxing. One of those vacations that feels like a vacation.
The item I wanted to mention has to do with our infamous middle child: Miles. In case you have not been able to gather...he is a twerp. Not only a twerp, but also an ingrate. (Actually, all children are ingrates, but I digress.)
Milo's twerpiness was especially apparent upon our visit to the Oklahoma City Zoo.
The zoo was doing a fun Ostrich Egg Breakfast thing, and we signed up and stood in line (for an hour) for delicious, flightless-bird omlets. Miles accompanied me in the line the whole time but was completely unappreciative during the entire hour. Of course, he wouldn't even try the omlet, but the best part came later.
The event was attended by some pretty colorful folk, including the following: sweet old-person band, authentic clowns, and Elsie the Borden cow.
It is on this last character that my story focuses. Miles acknowledged his desire to meet the quadraped (on two hooves), by the cute utterance, "Cawoo", and an assertive point.
Miles' initial encounter with the milk mascot was typical: aprehension and distrust, mingled with mild curiosity.
Once again, the firm request came, "Cawoo." The proceedings of this meeting were also anticipated: excitement with a handshake. The fun did not stop there.
Again, this time more politely, "Cawoo, pease", with a multi-nod of the head. This time, Elsie got a kiss. I thanked the costume wearer for his (or her) willingness to play along.
You guessed it, Miles insisted on one more furtive rendez vous with the lactose-laden lover. This last meeting was awkward and ostensibly left Miles wanting more. And that - I thought - would be that. All done. Breakfast was over, and it was time to see the REAL animals. You know, REAL lions; ACTUAL giraffes; and living, breathing geese. As mentioned before, with simple reality, Miles was not pleased. I know he was unsatisfied because as we were leaving to see the animate objects of our arrival, all Miles could think about, mention, and want in the whole world was that "Cawoo."
I assured him that s/he was sleeping, and needed the nap. No. "Cawoo, pease." What about the animals, Miles? No. "Cawoo." We had come to see the animals. No. "Cawoo."
I was getting breakfast on the table the other day when he said, "Mommy, I'm dreaming of the Spider-man song. Can you hear it? It's coming out of my head."
The entire way to Oklahoma City Cameron sat in the back of the van singing Black Sabbath's "Iron Man." Hmmm...another example of my stellar parenting.
Today Cameron, in full Spider-man garb, walked up to me, ripped off his mask and said, "Look at my hair. It's so Goblin-ey" And it was.
Sunday morning we went to church with Scott and Christy and the boys. Here are the kiddos in their finery. Quite the cuties, if I do say so myself. We Kilgore's really are doing good things for the gene pool in North America.
Last Wednesday was our 6th anniversary, but we were busy packing for the trip so we celebrated on the fly.
My big bro and his cute wife, Christy. She kept complaining that she looked "awful." Obviously, she doesn't.
Saturday morning we hit the zoo for a fundraiser pancake breakfast. The day started out COLD and windy. I didn't anticipate the temperature drop and failed to bring jackets for the kids. Cam figured out that he could get his arms inside his t-shirt while leaving his hands free to gorge. Nice.
We were very proud of Cameron for not bursting into tears when they sang, "Happy Birthday dear ZACH." For those who've been around Cam during this particular song, you know he really prefers to have it sung to himself (you can imagine the trauma that happens every month in primary when we sing the birthday song).
No one could bring themselves to eat Zach's head. Saturday night Scott finally made the cut and Scott, Chase and me ate dear Z's head. Christy couldn't partake.
Sophie was such a doll for the whole trip. Everyone loves a cute baby.
Thursday is the day we arrived. We drove straight to Scott's base for a little tour. I took this picture of his plane as we drove up because I was informed, in no uncertain terms, that pulling out a camera on the tarmac would result in me being thrown to the ground and guns being drawn.
Once we got INSIDE the plane we were allowed to take some selected shots of the cockpit. The boys were in their glory.
The boys were taking turns sitting in the pilot seats when Christy said, "Ty, why don't you let Cameron have a turn in that seat." Ty obliged and went to the back of the plane and before Cameron could take a breath Chase was sitting in the empty seat. He's such a great dad.
Scott in his flight suit. I wasn't allowed to take a picture of him even in the parking lot! This is the best I got. I meant to take a pic of him once he got home, but kept forgetting.