Stinky uncle

So, we were eating our breakfast, and a Febr*ze commercial came on. I'm not sure why they are fascinated with that product, but they are.
Peanut: It's Befreeze!
Me: Yes, it's Befreeze. (He just doesn't get it right. It's pretty funny.)
Peanut: I want to go see!
Me: No. How 'bout you eat? (We were in another room.)
Peanut: We have Befreeze.
Me: Yes, we do.
Meatball: Granny has Febr*ze.
Me: Yup.
Peanut: Nana has Befreeze.
Me (feigning excitement): Yup. Everyone has it!
Meatball: Except Uncle Jake.
Me (how does he know this about Uncle Jake?): Hmmm... Well, maybe Uncle Jake's house doesn't stink.
Meatball: It does when he farts!!

Adverbs

Peanut: I really hope I get a Thom*s Chuggy Chug track from Santa.
Me: Honey, you already have a wooden track and a gray track. What is a chuggy chug track?
Peanut: It's the ULTIMATE-SUPER-COOL track!

Uh, riiiiight. I have no idea what he is talking about.

National Adoption Blogging Day

So, here's the thing: I'm the one that wanted to have kids more than anything. I did this knowing that I would have to keep working in order for our kids to have medical insurance - at least in our lovely state. It took a LONG time for Bub to decide that she would be a good parent and to agree to giving it a go.

Now, since she became unemployed (and can't find anything due to this awesome economy), she has been home every single day with the boys for 30 months. Now, try to tell me that they would not be traumatized if something happened to me and they were taken from her.

To the state, she is a legal stranger to them.

To them, she feeds them, helps them brush their teeth, plays trains, sings christmas songs, tickles them, goes for walks, takes them to story time at the library, takes them for ice cream, helps them practice their writing and math, and watches Wonder Pets or Thomas or Super Why. She is their parent.

Someday, she will be able to legally proclaim this. At least, I hope so.

Funny little Peanut

Peanut went potty. Not five minutes later, he was standing by the wall looking at his (uber-cool) train track that spreads for eight feet across the floor. He looked up at me and said "My pee thinks that my pants are a potty!" Then, he ran to the potty again.

Fifteen minutes later, he was playing with trains on the aforementioned track with the TV on in the background, and he said (to no one in particular) "That Breaking Dawn movie is pissing me off." I asked him why, and he replied "Because it freaks me out!"

Generosity

Every year, the employees at our company come together to help provide Thanksgiving meal boxes to the Utah Food Bank for families that would otherwise have nothing. Teams gather items together for a couple of weeks and then box everything. Donated gift cards are included so that needy families can purchase a turkey or a ham or whatever. At last count, we were ready to donate 156 full boxes of food along with random extra food. This is just a portion of the boxes that will be loaded on the company truck and delivered later today:

The beautiful part of this is that it is just the beginning of what is truly "the most wonderful time of the year." This is such a generous company due partly to the employees. I mean, the company itself is AMAZING - like, COMPLETELY AMAZING - but the employees make it OUTSTANDING. I am so lucky to work here.

**Final count: 162 Thanksgiving dinners and several additional boxes of food. Seriously, we kick (turkey) butt!

Chop, chop, TIMBERRRRR!

The boys' swimming instructors are good about keeping the kids in line and focused during lessons. This, of course, gets really boring after 30 minutes, and the last thing that they get to do is something fun called "chop, chop, timber."

Basically, the kids sit down and act like a seed (which means do nothing, just in case you've never actually seen what a seed does). The instructor splashes water on them, and they slowly grow into a tree. Then, the instructor places her palms together (an axe) and asks what kind of tree they are before she makes two chopping motions and cuts down the tree. At that point, they get to dive into the water (which is really a limbs-flailing jump or sometimes a cannonball). While doing it, the instructor says with growing excitement in her voice "chop, chop, timberrrrrr!"

Usually the boys are a pokey (pine) tree, or an apple tree, or an orange tree, but last week when asked, Meatball declared himself to be a chocolate tree to which his instructor answered "You are going to be every woman's favorite tree!"

Beautiful

On the way home from work a few nights ago, I just had to stop and take a picture of the sunset over the Stansbury mountains.

lazy parenting, 101

After a long day of saving the world, one recognition award at a time, sometimes I just don't have the patience or energy to be an awesome mom. So, we're watching a movie tonight because it is the only thing I can think of that will keep them calm for a few minutes. I will say that they are clean, fed, their teeth are brushed, and I *DID* teach them how to play rock/scissors/paper.

That being said, I feel that it is my responsibility to let non-twin affiliated folks know that it is pointless to try and play rock/scissors/paper with twins. It's not a rumor that they have their own language and way of understanding. So, here's the story about rock/scissors/paper: THEY CHOOSE THE SAME THING EVERYTIME! Great, two rocks. Ah, two papers. Hmmm, two scissors. Nobody ever wins!

Everybody plays the fool, sometimes...

I didn't realize until today that in order for someone to be made a fool, there must also be someone being a complete tool. Sometimes, it's the same person, but it really hurts when it's someone close to you. Call me a fool for thinking that this person would change. Even if change wasn't an option, call me a bigger fool for thinking that tact and sensitivity would be used (especially when I expressly asked for it).

To [insert name here]: You are a friggin' tool. Sadly, this is going to take me a while to get over.

movie review: Elmo in Grouchland

So, here's the scene: the mean man who bullies everyone in Grouchland just took Elmo's blanket and won't give it back.

Me: Well, that man is rude!
Peanut: Yeah! I would kick his butt!
Me: Maybe we should just ask him to count to ten and then talk to him. If he doesn't want to talk, he should go to the naughty corner.
Meatball: Or, maybe he should go to jail with the police!
Me: Well, maybe.
Peanut: I would just kick his butt!

So much for non-violent problem solving!

And, yes. It's a Saturday night, and we're watching Elmo in Grouchland. Can we party, or what?
See?!?! It's a gripping tale:

(And, you've got to love Peanut's socks, right? Meatball's gray/black checkered flag patterned socks aren't much better. You just can't see them here. I don't know why Granny can't just buy white, tan, or black socks.)

This night of movie fun follows a day of de-scaling the teapot and coffee maker, cleaning the toilet and sink, washing the dishes twice, picking the last of the apples from an icy and snowy tree, making apple leather, doing laundry, and sledding down the hill in the back yard. (And all that was just me! Bubba read her book and fought stomach problems all day.) Seriously. We know how to spend a Saturday.

Sunday will bring more sledding with our friends and more things with apples. (I don't know what yet, but I have at least 15 pounds of them!)