Beloved Oma

After our quick trip to the south of the state, we returned in time to celebrate my momma's birthday.  It was a quiet affair - I am the only sibling in town - but we had a nice time.  Pizza at their place, followed by a pinata instead of a cake.  I guess my mom thought it would be more fun for the kids, so she and dad went to Zurchers (I don't know how to pronounce that either, by the way) and got a nice little pinata and then filled it with about 10 pounds of the best candy they could find.  It cost them about 60 bucks or something!  Kind of funny.  But yes, the kids loved it.  We also showered my mom with gifts - the sharpest cheddar cheese we could find, tools for her aquadoodle set, with which she loves playing with the kids, and a lovely little scarf that I am now coveting for myself.  My birthday is just around the corner......

Spring Break/A Break from Spring

Bad Blogger!  Bad!  Okay, now that I have sufficiently shamed myself for the lack of blogging, I'm going to continue the post I started days ago and pretend like nothing happened. :)

Shhhhh....do you hear that?  Guess what.  Neither do I.  That's because no one is here.  Yes, it's Monday (okay...Wednesday....) afternoon and my big kids are back to school and little Bundle is sound asleep.  Ahhhhhhh.  Spring break has come and gone. And I'm going to go ahead and claim that as the reason for my long blogging lag.  (I'm always coming up with excuses these days, aren't I?)  Actually, spring is turning out to be not so springy here in Salt Lake City.  It's grey, it's cold, it's rainy. Thus a trip to St. George to visit my brother and his family seemed more than warranted.  We had a lovely lovely time.  The first day down there was overcast, which dampened my sis-in-law's mood, considering the fact that it was her birthday.  (She turned 27 - isn't that cute?  I remember turning 27 a really really long time ago....)  We enjoyed a lot of time outside on their tramp and playing at the local splash park too.  We did a little hike through Chuckwalla Canyon (I think?) and Stomper did his very best to catch a lizard, to no avail. Here are some of my favorite pix from the trip:

 

 

We loved getting away from the dreariness of Spring...wait, that sounded wrong.  I guess I can't complain too much - the sun is shining right now, but it is supposed to snow on Friday.  Wah!!!!

Gone Fishing

I can hardly blame Stomper for his latest obsession: "River Monsters," a t.v. show in which this very tough, leathery old guy by the name of Jeremy Wade goes fishing. Not just regular fishing, mind you.  He's after fish you wouldn't believe - absolute monsters which are often surrounded by tales of having eaten people and/or their various body parts.  It's a recipe for perfection as far as Stomper is concerned - there's a little blood and carnage (mild reenactment only...wait, I take that back. Jeremy has been chomped a time or two), lots and lots of big teeth, plus the fish are always set free after being wrestled in. Keep in mind, it was Stomper who sobbed at the end of the movie "Godzilla" when the people win the fight against the mighty beast.

As Stomper has been spending time watching Mr. Wade, I've seen an increase in this type of art work:

 

The first drawing shows a shark eating a fish that's already been caught - apparently bull sharks swim up rivers and wait for fishermen to catch things for them.  You can see how confusing this is for the fishermen.  And in the second shot you can see the amount of exertion it takes to snag a shark out of a river.  Also miraculous was the day I walked into Stomper's room and found him reading. Folks, mine is not the child who has developed an undying love of reading.  Yet.  But there he was, sitting down with a book and reading it out loud in fascination.  Of course, it was the River Monsters book that he picked out from the last book order.  Thank you, Jeremy Wade.  

I actually found a piece of paper in the living room the other day that was a letter.  "Dear Jeremy," it read, "I love River Monsters...." etc.  It turns out that Stomper is planning on inviting Mr. Wade to dinner the next time he comes fishing in North America.  I'm encouraging him to finish his letter and send it to the angler in the hopes of at least getting a signed photo if not an actual dinner guest.  The question is, if I ever did end up with a celebrity fisherman at my table, do I dare to serve anything other than fish?

Don't Ask How I Know This

I bet you're wondering why I've posted a picture of this tiny, scrambled up bit of rubbery purple stuff.   Especially when it's something that I found under the rug the other day. At least, I think it was under the rug.  It may have been something I swept up or dug out from a crevice in the floor or something.  In any case, it was garbage.  The reason I'm posting it is because the moment I saw it  I knew exactly what it was and I shouted in amazement because it's something I spent HOURS looking for about two years ago.  It just so happens that mangled little thing is Ariel's Bra.  You know... her seashells?  Bitty got a polly-pocket-sized Ariel doll many moons ago.  It, like so many other toys for preschoolers, came with several accessories such as her shoes (each approximately the size of a single grain of rice) which are so tiny that the use of a magnifying glass is required when putting them on the doll.  And of course all those little things get lost instantly, causing floods of tears from your 4 year old daughter.  The shoes went first, naturally.  That wasn't such a big deal because Ariel still had her fin.  A little more disconcerting was the loss of her scanty top, thus illustrating the toy manufactuer's lack foresight because poor Ariel was left looking like she was going swimming on a nude beach.  I got a lot of questions from Bitty's fellow preschoolers.  I looked for that dang little top for weeks.  Almost as long as I looked for mini-Cinderella's missing glass slipper - fitting that she only lost one of them, don't you think?  Finally we replaced the little streaker with an updated doll who came equiped with a more permanant, painted-on pair of shells. And then, lo and behold, the bra makes a sudden appearance.  Where did it go?  Did it migrate much?  How sad is it that I was able to instantly identify it?  Pretty sad.  Well, little seashells, I'm going to send you back into the ebb and flow of the garbage because sadly, that's where Ariel already went.  (Yikes, now I'm thinking about Toy Story 3; I hope I didn't hurt Ariel's feelings too bad when I threw her away!)

Solution to the Mommy Problem

Homework, oh homework.  You are making life between Stomper and his mother rather challenging these days.  I try to be nice - and I am.  For a while.  And he tries to be nice.  Briefly.  And then he starts with the contradictions and distractions and bouncing off the wall, almost literally.  No, actually it's sometimes literally.  I have to ask that kid to do each separate task at least eight times.  I just can't quite bring myself to set him afloat on his own personal ocean of homework all along.  So a couple of hours later we're both close to tears.  On one particular day last week, Stomper and I were kneeling by the bed pounding through another afternoon of homework.  As I was dragging Stomper along by his big toe, he valiantly resisting all the way, I broke down and dropped my head into my arms to take a few quiet breaths before braving the next battle.  Clever little Stomper - he knew how to soften up his mommy!  I felt him climb on my back and begin a surprisingly soothing massage, giggling madly all the while because he knew exactly what he was doing.  Sheesh - even that tiny little wedge of my face shows the bags under my eyes....