On our way to the Kansas, Foreigner and Styx concert Saturday night, we drove by fields full of cows. Most would complain of the smell...in our car the conversation had a few of these components.
1) Do you know that cows are producing so much methane there is a hole in the ozone layer? So do we kill all of the cows and not eat beef?
2) Felix: Holy Cow Noah: Cows aren't holy. Wendy: They are if you shoot them. Baylee: Is that where Holy Crap comes from?
You know, I was really going to post more, but as I was typing I realized we spend at least 30 minutes on the Holy Cow/Holy Crap relationship.
Lessons Learned
1. Driving in a car with my family for more than 15 minutes can cause concerning conversation.
2. They didn't start fighting until after 30 minutes...I think it's a record.
3. Thank goodness for the cows....it broke up the fight.
4. The miller sportspart is GI-NOR-MOUS.
5. I still think Holy Crap comes from Holy Cows.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Dumb Waiter (and NOT the Elevator Kind)
So I made a post on Facebook saying (more or less) the exact title of this post. I told the story to someone last night and she agreed it needed to go on the blog.
We haven't eaten out much lately, largely due to the food allergy issue floating through our house. And because I think my kids need to understand eating out is a privilege....NOT a right. But that is a story for another time and place.
So we go out to eat at a popular eating establishment (across the street from Los Hermanos in Lindon) that serves pizza and pasta, but shall remain nameless. We sit down and wait a while for our server. By the time he shows up we aren't just ready to order drinks, we wants us some fooooood. Three of us did salad bars, so we went and ate right away. And then we waited some more. He came back after a while...a long, long while with waters all around. And the explanation that there was a broken water main and there was no soda. OK fine. Where's the food?
After another long wait, the food comes and the server offers to discount our meal for not having soda...whatever. I always drink water anyways...so it really wasn't a big deal to me. The food finally showed up and the server said half the drinks are working, so he brought a few out....not what we had ordered, but ok.
As per the norm, Caleb starts going nuts, wants to leave...Baylee joins the bandwagon...and Savannah and Noah try to light the bandwagon on fire. The bill comes and I handed the server my debit card without looking at the bill...not the best idea, but have you met my kids?
The bill comes back and I realized we were charged for an extra meal. Okay, then there was a discount, but the discount didn't really matter anymore because it was eaten up by the extra meal that NOBODY ordered. So since the kidlets were restless, I sent everyone to the car, and I waited to let the waiter know.
Now, while our waiter took his time between visits during the meal, I could see him flittin' around here and there. Always movin' around. Funny, I get my bill and apparently he was either abducted by aliens or a giant sinkhole opened up where the water main was and sucked our poor little waiter away.
I waited....for fifteen minutes. Finally, realizing the children were trapped in the car with Felix and great grandma and I knew I had to abandon my post. So I left less than a normal tip....k, this had nothing to do with the soda...it had to do with the suspicious disappearing act when I received my inflated discounted bill. I still left a tip, but not what I normally would have. Then, because I am who I am, I left a note on the bill that I had been overcharged. Feeling somewhat vindicated...I left.
As I was leaving the hostesses (yes, there were 2) I was asked (twice) how my meal was...I replied it was fine except for the part where I was overcharged. Let me remind you...there were TWO of them (2). And in unison...that perhaps had been rehearsed...they replied, "Okay have a good night, come again."
As I shook my head and walked out the double doors, out of the corner of my eye, my waiter handed my bill to the hostesses, saw me and took off around the corner. Do you think he knew something was afoot?
Lessons Learned
1. Check the bill BEFORE you pay....even when your kids are flipping out.
2. If you have money to throw away....just walk out and keep your mouth shut.
3. If you DON'T have money to throw away, say something and don't shut up until the situation is rectified.
4. I really like pizza and pasta, I wonder if I will ever go there again or if I will have to frequent another establishment.
5. Hmmmm....dumb waiter....he totally knew the bill was wrong and he was playing hide and seek hoping to get away with it. That's okay...I just talked to the manager of the eating establishment....there are at least 2 hostesses who got busted down and I'll bet it took very little torture before they gave up the waiter to THE MAN. Victory is mine.
We haven't eaten out much lately, largely due to the food allergy issue floating through our house. And because I think my kids need to understand eating out is a privilege....NOT a right. But that is a story for another time and place.
So we go out to eat at a popular eating establishment (across the street from Los Hermanos in Lindon) that serves pizza and pasta, but shall remain nameless. We sit down and wait a while for our server. By the time he shows up we aren't just ready to order drinks, we wants us some fooooood. Three of us did salad bars, so we went and ate right away. And then we waited some more. He came back after a while...a long, long while with waters all around. And the explanation that there was a broken water main and there was no soda. OK fine. Where's the food?
After another long wait, the food comes and the server offers to discount our meal for not having soda...whatever. I always drink water anyways...so it really wasn't a big deal to me. The food finally showed up and the server said half the drinks are working, so he brought a few out....not what we had ordered, but ok.
As per the norm, Caleb starts going nuts, wants to leave...Baylee joins the bandwagon...and Savannah and Noah try to light the bandwagon on fire. The bill comes and I handed the server my debit card without looking at the bill...not the best idea, but have you met my kids?
The bill comes back and I realized we were charged for an extra meal. Okay, then there was a discount, but the discount didn't really matter anymore because it was eaten up by the extra meal that NOBODY ordered. So since the kidlets were restless, I sent everyone to the car, and I waited to let the waiter know.
Now, while our waiter took his time between visits during the meal, I could see him flittin' around here and there. Always movin' around. Funny, I get my bill and apparently he was either abducted by aliens or a giant sinkhole opened up where the water main was and sucked our poor little waiter away.
I waited....for fifteen minutes. Finally, realizing the children were trapped in the car with Felix and great grandma and I knew I had to abandon my post. So I left less than a normal tip....k, this had nothing to do with the soda...it had to do with the suspicious disappearing act when I received my inflated discounted bill. I still left a tip, but not what I normally would have. Then, because I am who I am, I left a note on the bill that I had been overcharged. Feeling somewhat vindicated...I left.
As I was leaving the hostesses (yes, there were 2) I was asked (twice) how my meal was...I replied it was fine except for the part where I was overcharged. Let me remind you...there were TWO of them (2). And in unison...that perhaps had been rehearsed...they replied, "Okay have a good night, come again."
As I shook my head and walked out the double doors, out of the corner of my eye, my waiter handed my bill to the hostesses, saw me and took off around the corner. Do you think he knew something was afoot?
Lessons Learned
1. Check the bill BEFORE you pay....even when your kids are flipping out.
2. If you have money to throw away....just walk out and keep your mouth shut.
3. If you DON'T have money to throw away, say something and don't shut up until the situation is rectified.
4. I really like pizza and pasta, I wonder if I will ever go there again or if I will have to frequent another establishment.
5. Hmmmm....dumb waiter....he totally knew the bill was wrong and he was playing hide and seek hoping to get away with it. That's okay...I just talked to the manager of the eating establishment....there are at least 2 hostesses who got busted down and I'll bet it took very little torture before they gave up the waiter to THE MAN. Victory is mine.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Why?
I love my kids...but they (on occassion) talk too much. Caleb in particular. I think since he has 3 very vocal siblings...he has to get what he can while they aren't around. This is just from one day. ONE DAY.
"Why are we here?"
"Why do we have ears?"
"Why do we swallow?"
"Can I stop swallowing?"
"What if somebody killed Jesus and he stayed dead?"
"What if somebody killed me and I stayed dead?"
"When you die, can I have the house?"
"Why do you say in a minute?"
"What if I want it now?"
"Did you see that? Me neither."
"Why can't I have that?"
"Why did you tell me no again?"
"Why do we sleep?"
"Why does it get dark?"
"Why can't I be the boss of me?"
"How'd you see me do that?"
"Why is it a bad choice?"
And so on and so forth...that is but a mere portion of the fun that he and I have on a daily, hourly, minutely (is that a word) basis. Just thought I'd share.
Lessons Learned
1. Great minds think alike.
2. Even if I'm not asking the questions, at least I know someone is.
3. There is never a dull moment around here.
4. It's a wonder my ears don't bleed from the lack of silence.
5. It is WAY better than quiet...WAY better.
"Why are we here?"
"Why do we have ears?"
"Why do we swallow?"
"Can I stop swallowing?"
"What if somebody killed Jesus and he stayed dead?"
"What if somebody killed me and I stayed dead?"
"When you die, can I have the house?"
"Why do you say in a minute?"
"What if I want it now?"
"Did you see that? Me neither."
"Why can't I have that?"
"Why did you tell me no again?"
"Why do we sleep?"
"Why does it get dark?"
"Why can't I be the boss of me?"
"How'd you see me do that?"
"Why is it a bad choice?"
And so on and so forth...that is but a mere portion of the fun that he and I have on a daily, hourly, minutely (is that a word) basis. Just thought I'd share.
Lessons Learned
1. Great minds think alike.
2. Even if I'm not asking the questions, at least I know someone is.
3. There is never a dull moment around here.
4. It's a wonder my ears don't bleed from the lack of silence.
5. It is WAY better than quiet...WAY better.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
That's so Corny
So Noah has recently been diagnosed with a myriad of food allergies. It can't be eggplant can it? Oh no.........it has to be big and dramatic and frustrating.
Here's the list:
Corn
Yeast
Bell Peppers
Chicken
Turkey
Fish/Shellfish
Cashews
Pistachios
Mangos
Really? Oh yeah, baby, really. So being the mom that I am, I have tried to do this right along with him. We have purchased Feast without Yeast and The Corn Free Diet and Survival Guide because I decided those would be the two that were the hardest. And I was right.
Did you know that there is corn starch in EVERYTHING. For example: Pre-shredded cheese...we wouldn't want to clump now, would we? How 'bout a dryer sheet, yes a dryer sheet. Then there is the lotions, toilet paper, most paper products. And of course how could we forget our friend, High Fructose corn syrup...everything. I'm thinking we may have to get NG tubes for feeding, but the mix probably has corn in it.
After the first week of shock that I am going to have to actually learn how to cook, I am trying to see this as a blessing in disguise. Keyword: trying.
We don't need to put all of this garbage into our systems. The yeast part...well, I'm still pretty frustrated about the yeast part...that is another rant for a different day. The focus right now is trying to rid the house of as much corn and corn by products as possible. The big stuff: boom, gone...no problem. But now I get to call the manufacturers of basics like toilet paper, shampoo, toothpaste, etc...why? The majority of products out there have corn in them. sigh.
I used to really like corn. Now, I think it's Satans vegetable.
Lessons Learned
1. Cookbooks come in handy.
2. So does Amazon.
3. Noah is infinitely more patient than I am when it comes to food.
4. As a wise friend said, "It's okay to grieve the loss of food."
5. Why do RICE chex have CORN in them?
Here's the list:
Corn
Yeast
Bell Peppers
Chicken
Turkey
Fish/Shellfish
Cashews
Pistachios
Mangos
Really? Oh yeah, baby, really. So being the mom that I am, I have tried to do this right along with him. We have purchased Feast without Yeast and The Corn Free Diet and Survival Guide because I decided those would be the two that were the hardest. And I was right.
Did you know that there is corn starch in EVERYTHING. For example: Pre-shredded cheese...we wouldn't want to clump now, would we? How 'bout a dryer sheet, yes a dryer sheet. Then there is the lotions, toilet paper, most paper products. And of course how could we forget our friend, High Fructose corn syrup...everything. I'm thinking we may have to get NG tubes for feeding, but the mix probably has corn in it.
After the first week of shock that I am going to have to actually learn how to cook, I am trying to see this as a blessing in disguise. Keyword: trying.
We don't need to put all of this garbage into our systems. The yeast part...well, I'm still pretty frustrated about the yeast part...that is another rant for a different day. The focus right now is trying to rid the house of as much corn and corn by products as possible. The big stuff: boom, gone...no problem. But now I get to call the manufacturers of basics like toilet paper, shampoo, toothpaste, etc...why? The majority of products out there have corn in them. sigh.
I used to really like corn. Now, I think it's Satans vegetable.
Lessons Learned
1. Cookbooks come in handy.
2. So does Amazon.
3. Noah is infinitely more patient than I am when it comes to food.
4. As a wise friend said, "It's okay to grieve the loss of food."
5. Why do RICE chex have CORN in them?
Friday, April 30, 2010
5....FINALLY
You can refer to my post in April/May of 2009 regarding Calebs birthday to understand what a momentus occasion this is for us.
And of course he wouldn't be still long enough to take his picture.
The entire last year has been peppered with "I hate being 4." and in the first half of the year, "Why can't I still be three?" and the second half of the year, "When can I be 5? I hate four."
No, really. I have never seen a kid have such distaste for his age, but he did.
Luckily we all survived, with only one broken bone, one mysterious disappearance and more funny comments than I can count.
We're lucky to have him, I think we'll keep him.
The entire last year has been peppered with "I hate being 4." and in the first half of the year, "Why can't I still be three?" and the second half of the year, "When can I be 5? I hate four."
No, really. I have never seen a kid have such distaste for his age, but he did.
Luckily we all survived, with only one broken bone, one mysterious disappearance and more funny comments than I can count.
We're lucky to have him, I think we'll keep him.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Stop that Cart...But Leave 'The Finger' Out of It
As I have been searching for Corn-free, Yeast-free, basically food free items for Noah to eat, we (that would be Caleb and I) made a quick trip to Good Earth this morning. He had a snack, a drink and was totally up for the experience. That makes one of us.
After dropping the pretzels, succumbing to multiple requests for this and that (and of course it was all the stuff I could have gotten cheaper someplace else), I was so done.
We pay and make a quick escape to the car. I put Caleb in the car (he refused to wear shoes even though it was snowing...that's my boy) and went to put my purchases in the back of the car.
My back seats were laying down flat and I needed them up to keep everything from flying all over the place (have you ever gone somewhere with me and let me drive? 'nuff said). So I put up the first seat, grab the second seat to pull it into place when the cart makes it's move.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glint, it could be the snow...but alas, it was the renegade shopping cart...trying to escape with my fairly expensive corn free, yeast free, food free food. So I hurry to put the second seat back up and make my move to jump after the cart all at the same time...hey, I was multi-tasking. When just after I make my leap towards the car, I am jerked back like a rubber band shot gone awry. I had shut my middle finger in the recess between the two seats.
I yank trying to free my hand from the car, which is apparently in cahoots with the cart and I am stuck fast. So I yank harder. It hurt. It hurt really bad. But I got free, made it to the cart before it hit a car that was worth more than my house.
I loaded the groceries, took the cart in, got in the car and inspected the finger. Yes, I purposefully said 'the finger'. A red scrape (no broken skin) down the center of it and a purply (is that a word?), bluish colored knot rising at the base of my finger. Great. Now I can use 'the finger' to give people 'the finger' whether I mean to or not.
Lessons Learned
1. I'm insured...
2. I'm not so swollen anymore, but it still hurts.
3. I better check to see if I have a stupidity rider on my insurance.
4. I can't even try and do a 'good mom' deed without something weird happening.
5. Not a good sign when you make it to the 'For the love of Pete' portion of the day before noon.
After dropping the pretzels, succumbing to multiple requests for this and that (and of course it was all the stuff I could have gotten cheaper someplace else), I was so done.
We pay and make a quick escape to the car. I put Caleb in the car (he refused to wear shoes even though it was snowing...that's my boy) and went to put my purchases in the back of the car.
My back seats were laying down flat and I needed them up to keep everything from flying all over the place (have you ever gone somewhere with me and let me drive? 'nuff said). So I put up the first seat, grab the second seat to pull it into place when the cart makes it's move.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glint, it could be the snow...but alas, it was the renegade shopping cart...trying to escape with my fairly expensive corn free, yeast free, food free food. So I hurry to put the second seat back up and make my move to jump after the cart all at the same time...hey, I was multi-tasking. When just after I make my leap towards the car, I am jerked back like a rubber band shot gone awry. I had shut my middle finger in the recess between the two seats.
I yank trying to free my hand from the car, which is apparently in cahoots with the cart and I am stuck fast. So I yank harder. It hurt. It hurt really bad. But I got free, made it to the cart before it hit a car that was worth more than my house.
I loaded the groceries, took the cart in, got in the car and inspected the finger. Yes, I purposefully said 'the finger'. A red scrape (no broken skin) down the center of it and a purply (is that a word?), bluish colored knot rising at the base of my finger. Great. Now I can use 'the finger' to give people 'the finger' whether I mean to or not.
Lessons Learned
1. I'm insured...
2. I'm not so swollen anymore, but it still hurts.
3. I better check to see if I have a stupidity rider on my insurance.
4. I can't even try and do a 'good mom' deed without something weird happening.
5. Not a good sign when you make it to the 'For the love of Pete' portion of the day before noon.
To Pee or Not to Pee
That is the question. Really. That is the question.
We had to go to the hospital the other day for some follow up tests....for Baylee, who else? Same fun, different day. At least this time it was only a Urinalysis and not blood work. Easy peasy (I said peasy...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...you'll get it after you read), lemon squeezy.
I take Caleb with me this time, even though I usually avoid it at all costs. I hate taking him grocery shopping...trust me, the hospital and Caleb are not a fun combo. We get in line to register and one registrars computer goes down...so the people at her desk come back to the front of the line, which means I get bumped...well of course. We can't just get in and out can we?
We register, head to the lab, turn in our paperwork, find our faxed paperwork and then we sit in the empty waiting room. Yes, we sat and we sat and we sat. Just out of curiosity, do you think they are looking out of the little window of their door to see what we are doing while we wait? It could be a whole psychological evaluation thing...or it could be a terrorist plot. I don't know. I'm just sayin'.
We finally get called, they hand Baylee the cup, she goes back to the bathroom and Caleb and I sit on the couch. Caleb gets antsy...so what else is new, but after 15 minutes I had hit my limit. And yes, I did say 15 minutes. So I knock on the door, "Baylee, you okay?" "Fine mom."
At which point Caleb decides he absolutely has to go to the bathroom. So I take him to the bathroom across the hall. We go in and he immediately starts yelling about how I can't be in there, girls can't come in while I'm going to the bathroom. It wouldn't have been so bad except for...well...you know how hospital bathrooms are. They echo. They reverberate. They magnify. I finally convince him to go. It did take 5 minutes though and I had endure being told (okay yelled at) that if I didn't leave he would break all of my bones and not let the hospital people fix them. I'm sure everyone enjoyed that....because I sure did. Especially since my in and out trip to the hospital was now over 30 minutes.
After he goes to the bathroom he refuses to pull up his pants for the exact same reasons listed in the previous paragraph. Then we had the entire same conversation about broken bones, although it was one of those conversations where the volume was amplified. So after ANOTHER 5 mines I finally said I would flush the toilet myself, open the door and let everyone see his *privates* (*I used the anatomically correct word, but this is a family blog after all). So he started to scream, pulled his pants up and flushed the toilet. I'm pretty sure, by the looks on every ones faces as we walked out of the bathroom, that they all thought I was beating him. I wasn't. But I wanted to.
We go back to the lab and Baylee is STILL in the bathroom. She comes out and takes a big drink of water and goes back in. After another 5 minutes, I'm done. We decide to take the cup home and take our chances. We just had to have the sample back to the hospital by 7 or we would have to re-register.
As we are leaving, Caleb decides that he is furious because he didn't get his own cup. He didn't quite understand it wasn't for drinking. He sits himself down in the lobby and refuses to leave. I was okay with that. I said goodbye and started walking out of automatic doors. He flips out, runs after me, trips, splits his lip, gets covered in blood and the whole time I am walkin' away. Yeah, I am really that GOOD of a parent.
We get to the car, finally get home and the first thing Baylee does is go to the bathroom. You heard it hear first folks. I'll be here all week...
Lessons Learned
1. Baylee has to 'christen' every public restroom we are in the vicinity of...but the one time, the only time I NEED her to pee in public, she gets stage fright.
2. Caleb will NOT be accompanying me to the hospital again...unless he is in it and sedated.
3. I need a hobby.
4. Maybe I should get Caleb his own set of hospital gear so he doesn't feel left out.
5. I really need a hobby.
We had to go to the hospital the other day for some follow up tests....for Baylee, who else? Same fun, different day. At least this time it was only a Urinalysis and not blood work. Easy peasy (I said peasy...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...you'll get it after you read), lemon squeezy.
I take Caleb with me this time, even though I usually avoid it at all costs. I hate taking him grocery shopping...trust me, the hospital and Caleb are not a fun combo. We get in line to register and one registrars computer goes down...so the people at her desk come back to the front of the line, which means I get bumped...well of course. We can't just get in and out can we?
We register, head to the lab, turn in our paperwork, find our faxed paperwork and then we sit in the empty waiting room. Yes, we sat and we sat and we sat. Just out of curiosity, do you think they are looking out of the little window of their door to see what we are doing while we wait? It could be a whole psychological evaluation thing...or it could be a terrorist plot. I don't know. I'm just sayin'.
We finally get called, they hand Baylee the cup, she goes back to the bathroom and Caleb and I sit on the couch. Caleb gets antsy...so what else is new, but after 15 minutes I had hit my limit. And yes, I did say 15 minutes. So I knock on the door, "Baylee, you okay?" "Fine mom."
At which point Caleb decides he absolutely has to go to the bathroom. So I take him to the bathroom across the hall. We go in and he immediately starts yelling about how I can't be in there, girls can't come in while I'm going to the bathroom. It wouldn't have been so bad except for...well...you know how hospital bathrooms are. They echo. They reverberate. They magnify. I finally convince him to go. It did take 5 minutes though and I had endure being told (okay yelled at) that if I didn't leave he would break all of my bones and not let the hospital people fix them. I'm sure everyone enjoyed that....because I sure did. Especially since my in and out trip to the hospital was now over 30 minutes.
After he goes to the bathroom he refuses to pull up his pants for the exact same reasons listed in the previous paragraph. Then we had the entire same conversation about broken bones, although it was one of those conversations where the volume was amplified. So after ANOTHER 5 mines I finally said I would flush the toilet myself, open the door and let everyone see his *privates* (*I used the anatomically correct word, but this is a family blog after all). So he started to scream, pulled his pants up and flushed the toilet. I'm pretty sure, by the looks on every ones faces as we walked out of the bathroom, that they all thought I was beating him. I wasn't. But I wanted to.
We go back to the lab and Baylee is STILL in the bathroom. She comes out and takes a big drink of water and goes back in. After another 5 minutes, I'm done. We decide to take the cup home and take our chances. We just had to have the sample back to the hospital by 7 or we would have to re-register.
As we are leaving, Caleb decides that he is furious because he didn't get his own cup. He didn't quite understand it wasn't for drinking. He sits himself down in the lobby and refuses to leave. I was okay with that. I said goodbye and started walking out of automatic doors. He flips out, runs after me, trips, splits his lip, gets covered in blood and the whole time I am walkin' away. Yeah, I am really that GOOD of a parent.
We get to the car, finally get home and the first thing Baylee does is go to the bathroom. You heard it hear first folks. I'll be here all week...
Lessons Learned
1. Baylee has to 'christen' every public restroom we are in the vicinity of...but the one time, the only time I NEED her to pee in public, she gets stage fright.
2. Caleb will NOT be accompanying me to the hospital again...unless he is in it and sedated.
3. I need a hobby.
4. Maybe I should get Caleb his own set of hospital gear so he doesn't feel left out.
5. I really need a hobby.
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