Hi

So I read a lot of blogs.

But I don't really know that many bloggers.

Have you noticed this? How many bloggers might take beautiful pictures - write beautiful words - even be beautifully, ridiculously popular - but you really don't know them at all?

I don't like that.

So I'm going to introduce myself. For real.

HI.

I'm married. I think my husband is the most amazing person on the face of this planet. Like, really.

I have four boys. I love staying home with them. But I lose my temper more often than I should, and don't get down and play like I should either. I do think I get drastically better every year, though. Maybe I'll be the perfect mom by the time they move out?

They are all two years apart and sometimes I wonder if that was so smart.

But gosh darn it I love my boys.

I'd like a daughter, but don't know if I want another kid. This leads to majorly stressful thoughts.

My parents are getting divorced. Thirty-five years. That makes me sad.

I really hate the hour before dinnertime.

(I think about the statement-two-sentences-ago a lot. Yeah. Moving on.)

I limit the television mucho-lot-o. Sometimes it's hard to stick to it when my children are bored.

I'm strongly religious, and it influences my every thought and deed.

I hate money. I hate credit. I hate debt. I have a hard time when people make poor financial decisions.

I love being outside.

I think I'm fat.

I don't like chit chat. Maybe that's why I hate the phone? I like deep, meaty conversations with lots of soul searching and belly laughs to boot.

I have a very hard time being the first to bridge the communication gap.

I cannot be overly busy or overly at-home. Both drive me nuts.

I still feel like a homely wallflower nerd most of the time.

I'm still cowed by 'the popular kids' most of the time.

I'm still stupid most of the time.

I'm generally open to suggestions, and I admit when I'm wrong. But once I've made a decision, don't get in my face.

(Please.)

I can be really weird.

I fart whenever I feel like it.

I'm crafty, but not in your face about it.

I try to be healthy. But love desserts.

I still bite my fingernails sometimes.

My mom and sister are moving in with us. I'm actually pretty excited about it, but maybe I shouldn't be?

Things are about to change around here.

I struggle with motivation and proactivity.

Most of the time I'd rather be reading a book.

I really want a fudgesicle right now, but I shouldn't ....

I get really depressed when I think of all the things I want to do and buy.




And I want to get to know you better.

Surviving Summer - What week is it now?

This week was

DINOSAUR WEEK

This may have been the favorite so far.

We measured out various dinosaurs in the back yard, marking them with little flags. Find different lengths (along with a whole bunch of different dinosaur activities) here. We were very glad to find out that a brachiosaurus would fit. THANK GOODNESS.

We tried to do a wooden dinosaur puzzle, but it was too dang hard. Oh well.


We bought THE BIG BOOK OF DINOSAURS.


Awesome book. Awesome. We read it approximately 19731984147 times this week.

Can you tell by my face?

(Love that I'm wearing an apron in this picture.)

We also cut out dinosaur footprints and put them all over the house. Then we had a Dinosaur Parade, acting out different kinds of dinosaurs. (Like a COMPSOGNATHUS or a PACHYCEPHALOSAURUS. My kids can totally pronounce their names.)


We made dinosaur eggs. They were pretty tasty. Suspiciously like shortbread cookies. Who knew. (We acted like OVIRAPTORS the whole time. They eat eggs, you know.)

We also made fossils. Quite easy. Just make an impression in damp sand and fill with plaster of paris. (2 cups of plaster to 1 cup of water.) Dig them out once they're dry and dust them off with a paintbrush like real archeologists!

And, um, we also made a fossil of a bus-drivin' alligator.


And of course Dinosaur Week wouldn't be complete without a trip to the Dinosaur Museum!


This summer ROCKS.

Saturday day is a speeeecial day ....

It's the day we have rotisserie chicken sandwiches on sourdough bread - topped with the best of our garden.

Mmmmm ... garden tomatoes ....

Debunked

So a very popular blogger recently posted about her "new favorite brownies in the world." Seriously the "very best brownies ever" and even her husband raved that they're the "best brownies of all time."

Since she usually has excellent taste, I believed her and decided to try it.

But I am skeptical.


So. The ingredients. There are two.

First. BLACK BEANS. Yes, you read right.

Rinse and drain them, then add a cup of water and puree.

(Don't put in the bananas.)


The second ingredient: brownie mix.

(I actually had to go out and buy a brownie mix to make these. I had mucho faith in this blog.)

Stir. Bake.

Review:

So they smelled heavenly and the batter was awesome. Very tasty. I didn't detect a drop of the (truly vomit-producing) bean slop. They looked good too - nice and fudgy.


But the taste?

LIKE EXTREMELY CHEWY DIET BROWNIES.


If you're going to have a brownie, folks, HAVE A BROWNIE.

I like Betty Crocker's recipe. And I never reduce the butter.

Melt and cool five minutes:
2/3 cup butter
5 oz unsweetened baking chocolate

Separately, beat for five minutes:
1 3/4 cup sugar
2 tsp vanilla
3 eggs

Beat in the chocolate mixture, then add 1 cup of flour just until blended. Add 1 cup of walnuts if desired.

Bake at 350 degrees for 40 to 45 minutes.

No regrets. Only happy tastebuds.

And there was rejoicing throughout the land

Mr. Squishy is now TWO

We ate a Choo-choo -

"Choo-choo! Choo-choo! Choo-choooooooooooo!"

We opened presents

He rode off into the sunset

And I crashed next to the NBC.

Happy Birthday, my squishiest Mr. Squishy -

I love you

Decisions

Between laundry and the NBC, I choose him every time.

Surviving Summer - Week 4

This week we learned about

SCIENCE

I was really excited about this week. I had a ton of things to learn about and do, and we only got about half of them done. We might have to have a second edition of science week in the near future.

First off, when introducing our new theme, we discussed what "science" means.

To us, it means learning how things work.

It led to some awesome discussions, and got my kids thinking about the whys and wherefores of the world. (Which really mean the same thing, did you know that?) It also led to lots of googling. Because I've taught my children well: that the internet knows all.

We learned about our solar system. There's some great interactive websites out there (my kids liked this one) and I quizzed them on astronomy facts all week. They all like Mars. It's red, you know.

(Observed at the neighborhood pool: Little Prince to stranger kid: "Did you know the sun is actually a star?) Awesome.

We built our own little solar system, and hung it above the kitchen sink. It looks like a deranged spider. (Though I love Saturn's rings.)

And you'll observe that Pluto is there. It's still on the website, and therefore must be included.

(Little Prince to My Man: Yeah, the science people got together and said Pluto couldn't be a planet anymore. We don't know why.)

Poor Pluto.

We also built a crystal garden - a kit from Grandma. So cool. You could actually watch the crystals grow.

My favorite was building a volcano. Mason jar. Cardboard. Paper mache.

Little Prince didn't think it looked much like a volcano at first.

And I would prove to you with a picture that it did INDEED look like a volcano when we were done, but when it came time to explode it, I couldn't find the camera. Turns out it was actually PUT AWAY, not on the computer desk, my bedside stand, or on the kitchen counter where it USUALLY is.

Anyway, the kids loooooooooved exploding the volcano (red food dye, lemon juice and baking soda) and we went through an entire box of baking soda in one day. They kept exploding it over and over again for their friends.

We're so cool.

We also went to the Science Musuem in Phoenix, which was completely crowded and gave me a pretty nasty anxiety attack the whole time. I wrote my phone number on all my children's arms.

Still, they had fun -



The NBC just chilled. He's really good at that.

In which I start out really well and then crash

Today is Saturday. That means it's cleaning day.

First is the dusting. Mr. Squishy helps me spray down all our wood furniture (and we have a lot), while I waxonwaxoff. My living room smells like lemon.

My Man vaccuums and mows the lawn, too. He doesn't like to dust.

I did one bathroom yesterday and another today. I resign myself to having boys and scrubbing disgusting tile grout.

The day continued. I watered plants, cleaned the oven, scrubbed chairs, went through the everlasting pile of papers on the counter. Picked up books in the living room, picked up books in the kitchen, picked up books in the hallway, picked up books in the bedrooms.

We took some breaks. (Ghana WON?!) We went swimming. (It's freakin' hot.) I went shopping. (I went down a size!) I cooked some food. (We like to eat.)

But the cleaning continued all day. And at 8:00, despite gleaming surfaces, a sparkling floor, and white tile grout, THE HOUSE WAS STILL A WRECK.

I'm talking about stuff. Just - STUFF - all over our house.

The wheel to that one rolly pouf. Random keys. Pieces to the Spiderman puzzle and cut up paper from the boys' latest project. Post-it notes with phone numbers. Broken crayons. Half used notepads and Brazilian coins.

STUFF.

And I might have had a minor meltdown.

I huffed and puffed that I

pickuptwentyfourhoursadayeverydayofmylifeandinevergetanywhere. it'slikediggingaholeandfillingitbackupeverynight. ijustcleancleancleaneverydayandyoucan'teventell.
ikillmyselfeverydayandnoonecares.
ibasicallyhatemylifebecauseican'tstandtheclutter. iknowitdoesn'tmatterifmyhouseisdirtybut*I*caretremendously. idon'tlikeSTUFFidon'tlikeSTUFFidon'tlikeSTUFF. ican'tthinkstraightinherebecausethejunkeverywhereiscloggingmybrain. itpilesupeverywhereandijustcan'tfunction.
and so on and so forth

I actually cried a little bit.

But after the inevitable guilt and apology, I realized something.

My house will have STUFF all over it for a good eighteen more years, at least.

I might as well get used to it.

Right?

I'm going to reread this approximately 247247245 times

Because I want to be VERY careful not to ruffle any feathers.

Okay. So.

Preface: The parents in my church ward have varying takes on education. I'd say roughly 40% choose to send their children to public schools. The remaining 60% are split pretty evenly between charter schools and home schooling.

Alright. Now let's discuss why I'm discussing this.

As we all know, I'm doing this 'surviving summer' thing. Lots of activities, crafts, and outings with my kids. Lots of education and teaching and, most of all, having fun.

I'm feelin' good. I'm feelin' like I'm finally getting this mom thing. And I'm feelin' like I'm doing a good job.

But I can't tell you how many people tell me (in one breath), "You're such a good mom - you should home school - why don't you already?"

LOTS of people.

I guess I just don't like the implication that all good moms home school - and that all home schoolers are good moms. To me, they're mutually exclusive.

I know lots of home schooling moms that are amazing - absolutely wonderful mothers. Role models, and all that the word implies. They do a fantastic job home schooling their children, and their kids are the better for it. And yet I know lots of home schooling moms that are - ahem - awful. And their kids suffer.

But that goes the same for public/charter school moms too - some are great, some not so much.

(So really - women are just women no matter where their kids learn their ABCs.)

I think the whole childhood education decision is very personal - there isn't one right answer for everyone. Every child (and mother) is different, and should be treated accordingly.

Basically, I don't like being judged. Like I can't be a good mom unless I home school. Like only moms that home school are good.

I believe very strongly that mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. (This doesn't exclude dads - but moms are essentially The Buck.)

Elder Perry put it this way in last General Conference:

Teaching in the home is becoming increasingly important in today’s world, where the influence of the adversary is so widespread and he is attacking, attempting to erode and destroy the very foundation of our society, even the family. Parents must resolve that teaching in the home is a most sacred and important responsibility. While other institutions, such as church and school, can assist parents to “train up a child in the way he [or she] should go” (Proverbs 22:6), ultimately this responsibility rests with parents. According to the great plan of happiness, it is parents who are entrusted with the care and development of our Heavenly Father’s children. Our families are an integral part of His work and glory—“to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). On God’s eternal stage, it is usually intended that parents act as the central cast members in their children’s lives.

I know that the most important things my children should learn are things like

responsibility
kindness
proactivity
integrity
good manners
friendliness
forgiveness
being open and non-judgmental
service
ambition
thirst for knowledge
and the like -

and I fully intend to be the one teaching them these characteristics. (Or, at least, the most important one teaching them - but it's a team effort!) I won't leave my children's character up for grabs at a public school.

But I fully believe that I can teach my children these things while they attend public school. Having my kids attend public school doesn't exempt me from teaching my children. Nor does it prevent me from teaching them.

So.

I can be a good mom and not home school.

Thank you.

(Pssst. No bashing home school in the comments. That wasn't the point, please.)

Surviving Summer - Week 3

This week was
Father's Week

Because one day simply isn't enough to celebrate My Man.

Seriously.

We made "Come Home Dad" blocks for his desk at work. Work is thoroughly overrated, is it not? I would totally be a hermit if it meant My Man could just be with us all the time. Who needs electricity and clothes and food and? ....

I wanted to decorate the blocks with pictures of the kids and stickers and little sayings, but I was told that would look "weird." Okay then.

We also visited My Man at work. Where they ate popcorn and candy and stared at the fish and played with the toys.

Work is AWESOME.

(And Little Prince is in the I-hate-having-my-picture-taken-stage.)

Racing back to the car is FUN.

Dad won.

Speaking of cars, we washed his. Anything involving nakedness is approved by the That Girl Boys.

For Father's Day lunch we had BBQ pork pizzas. Pulled pork. Barbecue sauce. Cheese. Cilantro. Delish.

Dinner was summer stuff - burgers, ribs, corn on the cob, chips, watermelon, pop.

That-Girl's-Last-Name Dessert for afters. Cuz nobody knows the original name.

It is pure fluffy sweetness. REALLY sweetness.

Recipe:

The top and bottom "crusts" are just chocolate cookie crumbs. There's a certain kind of cookie that is preferred, but I can only find them in Utah. In Arizona, I use Oreos.

Tough luck.

For the filling, bring 2 cups of milk to a boil, and stir in one bag of marshmallows. Take off the heat, cover, and cool for a few hours, stirring occasionally. (You want all the marshmallows to melt - no lumps!)

Once thoroughly melted and cool, whip up a pint of cream with a 1/4 cup of sugar, and mix it in the marshmallow/milk stuff. Pour it in between the cookie crumb layers, and refrigerate overnight.

Fluffy. Sweet. My Man laps this stuff up.

So this year I did a "Five Love Languages" theme for Father's Day.

Service - washed the car and did the dinner dishes as often as he would let me
Words of Affirmation - love letters and "I Love Daddy" books from the kids
Presents - the blocks and General Conference on CD
Touch - a book to teach me how to massage (he might have to read it, too...)
Quality Time - we're going jet-skiing this week!

Yeah. I love My Man.

More than any language known or un.

Finally

Packed them all up. He's three months old. Don't judge.

Ten cups

On My Man's side of the bathroom sink.

Dude.

What I partake of every morning

The Ensign,

oatmeal with berries and almonds

and these cheeks. (And neck, and toes, and chin, and nose, and ....)

Surviving Summer - Week 2

PIONEER WEEK

We started out by washing our "boos" by hand. The kids thought it was awesome, and want to do it every week. We'll see.


Our Boos are special. Very, very special. And they smelled super good afterward.

We also made ice cream. Mint. Because that's the flavor we had on hand.

(The neighbor kid was over. He's always over.)

(And we're always half naked around here. Deal.)

(I love the look on Sunshine's face.)

(I also, apparently, love parentheses.)

It was incredibly delicious. Especially with homemade hot fudge sauce.

(Sunshine is the Incredible Hulk. Obviously.)

We made homemade butter. I'm probably more proud of it than anything I've ever done in the kitchen. Which is stupid, since it's also the easiest thing I've ever done in the kitchen.

We used the buttermilk to make bread, and ate it with the butter. (Two loaves, one to give away.)

Oh.

My.

Yum.

We used the cream cartons to make log cabins. No picture, because I forgot to take one, and I'm already typing up the dang blog and I'm not about to stop.

They were cute though.

We also visited the town's Historical Museum, which was the highlight of the week. Little Prince says he wished he lived in the olden days.

Probably because of the tractor.

We were going to make hand dipped candles, but instead we all got super sick and laid around, reading books and letting My Man take care of us.

It was very nice.

Maybe we'll make the candles next week.

Happy Pioneer Week!

I'm sure I'll totally regret this

I just can't shut up can I?

Okay, so it's common knowledge that I live in Arizona, right? And it's also ridiculously well-known about our new immigration law, correct?

Well. You wouldn't believe the hoopla over here.

And I don't think I've said a word about it to anyone - besides My Man, who's gotten an earful. I've been reallysupervery good and kept the peace and haven't ruffled any feathers. But I just can't do it anymore.

Because I've lived in another country.

I've totally been there - waited for hours and hours in line, dealt with mountains of paperwork and stupid laws and gotten quite tangled up in red tape. Repeatedly. I think, all told, we had to get six different visas before we were finally 'settled' in Brazil. One time we had to go to Argentina for a few days while our visas got sorted out. I've chewed up my fair share of fingernails and sweated up a storm over our Brazilian citizenship issues. I really, truly know what it's like to become legal in another country. It's a huge, fat, pain in the donkey.

(But we still did it.)

We waited in line. We dealt with the paperwork. And the laws. And the red tape. And everything. We bent over backwards to become legal citizens. We paid our taxes. We obeyed their laws.

So why can't everyone else?

I feel for the millions of people in our country who have worked and lived here for years. Who might not have anywhere to go, if they were deported. I'm sure they're terrified. I wish there was some sort of blanket amnesty for everyone who applies for citizenship within the next six months, or something. (And yes, I know that it would be a bureaucratic nightmare. But hey - we need to create jobs in America anyway, right?) Let's let who's here, stay here. IF they walk the walk.

But after that, hey -

Legal is the way we roll, people.

I support lawful obedience. As does my church:

12th Article of Faith: We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.

And the law is that you need a green card to stay. I honor that.

I know you are but what am I?

I have a problem.
I have a problem.

My kids repeat every little thing.
My kids repeat every little thing.

Yours too?
Yours too?

What do you do about it?
What do you do about it?

No, what do YOU do about it?
No, what do YOU do about it?

Hey, I asked first!
Hey, I asked first!

No, I asked first!
No, I asked first!

Quit it.
Quit it.

No, YOU quit it!
No, YOU quit it!

STOP!
STOP!

STOP IT RIGHT THIS SECOND!
STOP IT RIGHT THIS SECOND!

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!