Dam it!

I feel the need to vent about this. I am so tired of cleaning up wet bedding that I could scream! You know that mythical hollow leg that teenagers fill up with all of the extra food that they eat? Well my son fills it up with urine so that each night he can release his torrential downpour of liquid on his bed. We frequently take him 1 and 2 times a night to the bathroom and still have the same results 3-4 times a week. My laundry room stinks and I am having a hard time keeping up with the sheer quantity of fabric that needs to be washed. We are going to take him in to make sure that he isn't releasing sugar into his urine, which is a sign of diabetes. If he had a "condition" I would be more compassionate towards him, instead of disgusted and frustrated (disgustrated?).

I wonder if we could get a prescription for a medical clothespin to help shut off the valve at night? I guess that we could always go back to sleep diapers, but those don't usually hold up to the current either. One day at a time, I know. But sometimes I wish that life were easy and I could just snap my fingers and have my problems go away. I could just say to him "Stop, dam it." And he would use a dam and stop the flow. Sigh. A girl can dream. At least I know that we won't have any problems getting a urine sample for the lab work.



Picture found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/richbert/3947726839/

Job Posting - Mother

Wanted: Micro-manager who thrives on detail-oriented instructing of all team members, position often requires cleaning of biohazard and human waste products, meal preparation, laundry, accounting, payroll, requisition of supplies, conflict resolution, ground maintenance, correspondence and countless other skills discussed at interview. Living on-site required. Ability to yell not required but very effective. Full-time, five kids a week. Salary: to be determined in Eternities, undervalued on Earth.


Picture found at http://www.bettermondays.com/?p=11

Mamarazzi, not Papa!

My Mom is not just a photographer, she has an addicton! She used to set up the tripod at our birthdays. We had to limit her to one roll of film per event. She was offended for a while, but reluctantly complied. She says that she loves to tell a story with her photos and does a great job. God bless those people who made digital cameras (they aren't nearly the same quality...yet, but they are getting there).

Periodically Mom would find a stash of 15-20 rolls of undeveloped film that she forgot about. Once on a trip to England, she took four rolls of film of the cloud formations out the window. We have never let her live that one down. In England she took 14-16 more rolls of pictures. Whew! It was like being there without any of the jet lag. My record is nine rolls at my sister's wedding, but that's different, isn't it?

Okay, I have a confession to make. I have the disease too, not quite so severe, but little people are so cute. I can't help myself. There is also the thrill of the hunt. My one year old is already trying to grab the camera out of my hand and is seen here covering the lens. But I have this need to take that perfect shot. I have scrapbooks that I dream about assembling (maybe when they all go to school) and the wedding slide shows to think about (blackmail photos here I come!). What photos that I do take that are horrible go in the digital dumpster. No harm, no foul. It is a no lose situation and a great hobby.

I love doing little videos too. My life is really interesting in four to ten minute segments and then it becomes all hard work and tedium again. True story. Well, I have to go, my kids are doing every cute thing that they can imagine while I'm occupied on the computer.

I wonder where I put that tripod?

Squash Your Guilt

My Grandpa used to joke about having all of the neighbors close their curtains and not answer the door when he was trying to give away some of the excess zuchini from his garden. It is true that squash tends to grow in large quantities, which isn't the the real problem. The problem is that people don't eat very healthy anymore and when they get handed a croookneck or a scalloped squash, they are clueless as to its vast usefulness. Well let me enlighten the non-believers out there. For my vegetable sermon, I will use Butternut Squash as my poster child.

Here it is January, and I just cooked up my last specimen from my early October harvest. That's three months in the pantry!

At my convenience, I cut a squash in half, take out the seeds and place it face down in a cake pan with about an inch of water. I cook it on a 350 degree oven about 40 minutes or until its done. When it cools, I peel off the skin or put it in the fridge for when I have more time, or put it in the food processor. I put two cups of puree in a quart size zippy bag using an awesome measuring cup from Pampered Chef that I splurged on. (They also have an awesome rubber spatula that can be used up to 550 degrees making it perfect for canning jam), and freeze it. That size package is 16 ounces, the perfect size for substituting for canned pumpkin in any recipe. A great source for recipes is http://www.recipezaar.com/. Just look up "Squash" and be prepared to be amazed. Or try the site for Libby Pumpkin at http://www.verybestbaking.com/recipes. I personally love Butternut soup and pie. I also made sweet bread with three kinds of squash that was yummy. We also sneak squash in with our autistic and three year old sons food for added nutrition. My son Ben worships potatoes and all of their bi-products, so we try to mash something else in like cauliflour, carrots, acorn sqaush, etc.

My point is this: grow it, package it pureed and squash your guilt about giving your nutritious produce to friends and neighbors. Like a good neighbor, giving squash shows you care.

SunBEAN and Amen!

This is J.B. He is conquerer of the dryer.

One of the saving graces of little children is that to outweigh all of the naughty and obnoxious things that they do, they also do really cute things. My three year old is a troublemaking poster child. He gets into mischief at his every convenience and his favorite word right now is "No." He also runs around saying "I am not a newb." That is his big brother CeDricK and his uncle Kurt's favorite phrase. It means a New Bee, or beginner, Rookie, Know-nothing. They got it from Runescape, a computer game that sucks away the extra hours of both those two boys and my husband. I hate the game just for existing, but that is a whole different blog.

So J.B. is now a Sunbeam at church which is our cute phrase for children who turn four anytime this year, but my child thinks that he is a SunBEAN. The most common way that we end a prayer is to say "in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen." On Sunday when J.B. heard the speaker say that we have a Savior and his name is Jesus Christ," My son looks up from where he is laying on the ground playing quietly (yes, miracles do happen!) and says "Amen!" We all start giggling of course. I am no good at not laughing at the unexpected.

I laughed when he did something similar at home while we were watching General Conference. The people asked to say a prayer often take a really long time. J.B. was done listening well before the prayer ended, so he took matters into his own hands and said "Amen" and walked away. I like his style. If that method worked, I would use it on Fast Sundays, because they are usually not fast, but SLOOOOOOOOW!

He also calls our van a Wan. Maybe because we often go wah, wah, wah all the way home. I already did a posting about his calling a knife, a Wife. On days when I get irritated at him for playing in the flour cannister, smearing Noxzema cream or petroleum jelly all down my stairs or giving me a handful of brown organic diaper matter, the little cute things that he does are indeed what save his hide.

Candy Janes and Cinnamon Schticks

My torrential three year old asked me for a candy Jane the other day. Not being the tightest wrapped candy in the store, it took me a few seconds to translate toddler-speak to his request of "May I have a candy cane?" Of course I thought his request was so cute that I gave him a huge crook shaped candy stick with a silly smirk on my face as I admired his clever cuteness.

When she was little, my baby sister used to call Egg Nog "Christmas Milk," which it technically is. We have called it that ever since. I love Egg nog cookies and using it in french toast instead of boring, old, everyday milk. She also used to call the shower a "rain room." She is still an imaginative young lady who recently turned twenty-one. Where do the years go?

Before I know it, my children will all be too old for Santa and only want giftcards for Christmas. I will enjoy their innocence while I can. BUT As much as I cherish this time in my life, I also can't wait for the sight of that glorious big yellow school bus that comes on Monday. God bless those people! They are what keeps me going somedays as I count down the hours until I have a little more quiet and fewer demands on my time. It has been a very full Christmas break. We had a good holiday filled with great food, not too much family and a lot of laughs, or "Schticks" as the great comedy skits are called. You should witness my family playing the game Apples to Apples. We are crazy, in a good way!